How do you Leave the Past Behind?
by Infinity Blue
Summary: Chapter 55 up. Benny's back in town, and a 'catch-up' conversation with Mimi turns somewhat violent.
1. It Reaches Way Down Deep

The grass was damp and soggy from the short rainfall the night before. The knees of Collins's pants soaked as he kneeled on the soft ground, gazing at the slab of marble in front of him.  
  
"Angel Dumott Schunard," the inscription read, "1970-1996. In our hearts, ALWAYS." It was carved with care, and Collins's fingered the words with the tip of his finger slowly, as if it were brail.  
  
"You coming, Collins?" It was Frankie.  
  
Collins looked up at her, and forced a weak smile. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute."  
  
"Alright," Frankie said, quietly. Behind her stood Mimi and Roger, side by side, and next to them, Maureen and Joanne. Mark stood in the background awkwardly, his camera perched on his left shoulder.  
  
A couple of minutes went by, and finally Collins sighed with defeat, and stood up. He linked his arm through Frankie's and turned to the others. "Let's go home."  
  
***  
  
The car ride home was silent. Maureen drove, with Joanne in the seat beside her. Collins, Frankie, Mark and Roger sat in the back seat, with Mimi propped up on Roger's lap.  
  
It was the one year anniversary of Angel's death. It also happened to be Halloween. Roger glanced at Mark, who was fixated on his camera, fiddling with the knobs carelessly. Two years earlier, the two of them would probably be running through the streets, spraying shaving cream along the sides of the road like little kids. But now Halloween had become a day of mourning.  
  
Traffic was scarce. Most were already outside, trying to get their kids' pillowcases stocked with candy before dark, so they wouldn't have to wander around in the pitch black.  
  
"So," Roger said, casually, "Is anyone hungry?"  
  
"I am," Maureen admitted, her hands still gripping the steering wheel. "I haven't eaten all morning.  
  
Roger turned to Collins. "Is it okay with you, Collins?"  
  
He shrugged. "Sure, it's no trouble. You guys don't have to starve yourselves on my account." He was trying to break the uneasiness in the atmosphere, but no one else caught on. Their expressions remained grim.  
  
"Well, I guess we could make a quick stop to the Life," Maureen said, quickly turning her neck in her seat to look at everyone else. "Everyone okay with that?" Several heads nodded. Satisfied, Maureen turned back to the road.  
  
"Do you think he'll be okay?" Mimi whispered to Roger, gesturing her head towards Collins.  
  
Roger smiled, and squeezed her hand lightly on his. "He'll be alright. Collins is a fighter. And he has Frankie now to help him pull through."  
  
"I hope so." She glanced at the two of them. Collins was staring at the back of Joanne's head, though Mimi knew his mind was somewhere else. Frankie's head was nestled against his shoulder, her eyes closed.  
  
Maureen pulled to a stop in front of the Life Café, and everyone hopped out of the Jeep. Mimi slid off of Roger's lap, and everyone piled into the restaurant.  
  
"Hey, Seb," Maureen greeted the waiter hanging by the door.  
  
He faked annoyance as he recognized them. "You guys, AGAIN?" he joked.  
  
"Yup. We're like cockroaches- you can't get rid of us."  
  
"Don't I know it," he sighed. He squinted at them, seeing the new addition of Frankie. "How many?" he asked.  
  
"Seven," Mark spoke up, coming in behind Maureen.  
  
"Seven, huh? Just like old times, right?"  
  
Everyone glanced at Collins nervously. He shook the comment off with a wave of his hand.  
  
"Oh jeez, that was really stupid of me," Seb apologized, his face turning red. "Follow me, I'll seat you."  
  
They followed him into the back of the restaurant, where it was more isolated and quiet. Once they were seated and had ordered, Seb left to let them be alone.  
  
"You know, you guys don't have to treat me like a bomb. I'm not going to explode if you fiddle around with me," Collins suddenly spoke up. "I mean, this is a day just like any other day, right?" even as the words escaped his mouth, everyone knew he was putting on the new mood for show.  
  
The replies were delayed, as Seb arrived with their food.  
  
"Thanks, Seb," Mark said, as he placed the tray on the table.  
  
"Don't mention it," he smiled. "You guys are regulars. It's no problem." He nodded at Collins and walked away.  
  
Suddenly, Joanne's phone began to ring, abruptly and rudely. "Oops," she exclaimed, rummaging in her bag for her mobile phone, "I thought I had it off."  
  
"It's fine, Pookie," Maureen said, patting her arm.  
  
Joanne finally found the phone and pressed the 'ON' button.  
  
"Hello?" She frowned. "This is Joanne." She cradled the phone between her chin and shoulder, her eyebrows knitting into a frown. "Hold on a sec." she handed the phone to Maureen. "It's for you, Honey."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess they couldn't find any other way to reach you," Joanne shrugged.  
  
"Okay," Maureen climbed over everyone's laps, phone in hand. "I'll take it outside."  
  
Joanne rolled her eyes. "Alright," she said, "Don't forget about us."  
  
"Could I forget about you?" Maureen smiled, sweetly.  
  
Joanne tried not to let a smile escape her lips. "Don't be too long," she ordered.  
  
"Yes Mom," Maureen promised, walking outside.  
  
"Yes?" she said into the phone?"  
  
"Mo? Is that really you?"  
  
"It's really me. Who is this?"  
  
"You don't recognize my voice?"  
  
"No, I don't," Maureen said, annoyed.  
  
"Aw, hell babe, don't do this to me! It's ME. Jimmy."  
  
"Jimmy?" the corners of her mouth curled up, pleasantly surprised. "God, I haven't talked to you in years."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Sucks, doesn't it?"  
  
Maureen rolled her eyes. "So where are you?"  
  
"That's the big surprise- I'm in the neighborhood."  
  
"Really? Where?"  
  
"That's not important, now, is it? I wanna see you, Mo. Are you still living in Mark and Roger's apartment?"  
  
"Nope. I've got my own now."  
  
"You a single Susie?" he teased, over the phone.  
  
"No. I've got a roomie."  
  
"Really," he said, surprised. "Who's the lucky guy?"  
  
"Girl," Maureen corrected. "My girlfriend. Joanne." There was silence on the end of the line.  
  
"Oh, um . . .I didn't know you went that way, Mo."  
  
"There are lots of ways I go," Maureen replied, coolly.  
  
"Don't I know it. Anyway, I still wanna see you, Mo. I've missed you."  
  
"Sure, it's fine with me," Maureen said, not wanting to tell him she actually HADN'T missed him.  
  
"Great! Is today alright?"  
  
"Actually, it's not," she glanced back at the table.  
  
"Tommorow, then?"  
  
"Sure," she sighed, giving in.  
  
"Can I get an address?"  
  
Maureen gave it to him.  
  
"Thanks babe, I'll see you tomorrow. Kisses." And he hung up.  
  
Maureen stared at the dead phone in her hand, shaking her head.  
  
When she returned to the table, all eyes were on her, questioning her.  
  
"Who was it, Honeybear?" Joanne asked, as Maureen slid into the seat beside her.  
  
Maureen frowned. "It was an old ex of mine. He's in the neighborhood, and he wanted to see me."  
  
"Is he going to?" Joanne asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Yes, he's stopping by tomorrow." Joanne gave her a look.  
  
"It's not like I have FEELINGS for him anymore, Jo. You're the only one in my life now." That satisfied her.  
  
"Close on Maureen," Mark chimed, coming alive for the first time that day with the simple switch of a knob on his camera, "As she ponders the day that awaits, when she will be meeting up with an old ex." He turned the camera towards himself, widening his eyes. "Is this the end? Will Maureen and her ex make up and be friends? How late WERE Roger and Mimi out last night?" A french fry came whizzing through the air out of nowhere, colliding into Mark's face.  
  
"Hey!" he turned around to face Mimi, who had a satisfied smirk on her face. She stuck her tongue out at him. "It never pays to me a jackass, Marky," she laughed. "Remember that."  
  
"So, how late WERE you two out?" Mark repeated, turning it to the both of them. "Whatever time floats your boat, Mark," Roger answered, wrapping his arm around Mimi, tickling her in the ribs. "Maybe one in the morning? I dunno."  
  
Mimi, who was very ticklish, shrieked and kicked out with surprise, catching Mark's shin.  
  
"Ow," he growled, bending down to nurse his leg.  
  
"Sorry, Mark," Mimi giggled.  
  
"You two are unfathomable," Collins laughed, shaking his head. Everyone looked relieved at Collins's change of mood, except for Roger, who was trying to find out what the word 'Fathomable' meant.  
  
"It means 'Uncanny,' Davis," Mimi teased.  
  
"I know. See? Watch me use it in a sentence. It's UNFATHOMABLE how you like to watch reruns of 'Oprah' every morning."  
  
Mimi whacked him with another French Fry.  
  
"Hey, that's my lunch, you know," he protested, popping it into his mouth.  
  
"Gross," she grumbled.  
  
Frankie, who had been watching the whole scene, amazed, shook her head and laughed,  
  
"Can you believe those two?" she laughed, turning to Collins.  
  
He shook his head. "I've never met them before in my life." He kissed her on the neck gently. Roger mimicked him, kissing Mimi on the cheek.  
  
"You guys ready to go?" Maureen asked, impatiently. "I wanna clean up the apartment a bit before Jimmy comes tomorrow. So he sees that I'm 'organized' now."  
  
"You? Organized?" Joanne smirked.  
  
"Hush, Pookie. Let's go."  
  
After paying for their lunch, and leaving Seb a large tip, the group exited the Life Café, and headed in the direction of Maureen's car.  
  
"So, where HAVE you two been?" Mark asked Roger, as they walked side by side.  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Roger teased. "Planning your birthday, maybe?"  
  
"Exciting," Mark laughed.  
  
Roger raised his eyebrows. "Mark, watch it!"  
  
"What?" his words were cut off as he smacked into another body on the street, both of them falling to the ground.  
  
"Ow, jeez, are you alright?" he asked, breathlessly, hovering over his victim. It was a girl, not too young. She looked about Mimi's age. She had short straight dirty blonde hair, and pale skin. Mark's eyes lingered and he saw that her skirt was ripped and there was a hole in her tights.  
  
"Shit, I'm sorry, I'm such a klutz," Mark apologized, helping the girl to her feet.  
  
She smiled shyly and pushed her hair back behind her ears. 'It's okay, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," she said, in a soft breathy voice.  
  
"I'm Mark," Mark said, stupidly.  
  
"I'm Jan," the girl said, smiling.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll see you around," he said. "Hopefully without knocking you over," he added, quickly.  
  
She laughed. "See you," she said. She picked up her bag and walked in the opposite direction.  
  
***  
  
"That girl was INTO you, Mark," Roger teased, as he, Mark and Mimi entered their apartment.  
  
"Was not," Mark protested, his face flushed.  
  
"Aw, you guys were cute," Mimi said. "You should try to figure out where she lives."  
  
"And let her think I'm a stalker? No thanks." Mark said. "I'm gonna go lie down for a bit." He went into his room, closing the door softly behind him.  
  
Roger swooped Mimi into his arms, and plopped her down on the couch, gently. "Mark's such a klutz," he sighed, laughing.  
  
"I guess it's contagious," said Mimi.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Roger, I'm the clumsiest person to ever walk the planet."  
  
Roger raised his eyebrows. "What are YOU talking about? I don't see you falling down the stairs every two seconds."  
  
Mimi laughed. "Well, for those episodes were never around. Did you know that when I first started working at the Cat Scratch, Terry had to walk me through every single step, because I was so off?" Terry was Mimi's boss.  
  
"No . . ." Roger said, interested.  
  
"And the first time we rehearsed that lawn chair dance . . . I was practicing it on that runway, and I was doing the routine, and suddenly the chair slipped, and I was still handcuffed to it. I fell over while I was still sitting in it."  
  
Roger was holding his sides and laughing.  
  
"It's not funny," she complained, tossing a pillow at his head. "I had bruises for WEEKS."  
  
"Alright," Roger choked out, "Sorry."  
  
There was a knock at the front door.  
  
"I'll get that," Mimi said, since Roger was laughing too hard to be in any condition to answer the door.  
  
Casually, Mimi opened the door, thinking it was Collins or Frankie. Her mouth dropped open when she saw the sniffling bruised heap in front of her.  
  
"DAISHA?" she gasped.  
  
a/n: Yes, I am in my own Fan Fic. Bite me ( 


	2. Following in her Footsteps

"Daisha, is that you?" Mimi gasped, grabbing the visitor by her trembling arm.  
  
"It's me," she whispered, shakily.  
  
"Who is it, Meems?" Roger called from the living room.  
  
Mimi didn't answer him. "Oh my god," she breathed, what happened to you? I haven't seen you in so long- how long HAS it been?"  
  
"I've missed you too," Daisha whispered.  
  
"What happened, honey?" Mimi asked, gently.  
  
She sniffed. "Joel started hitting me again. He also made a few moves on me. I left a week ago, and I've been living on the streets. I've been trying to find out where you live."  
  
"That bastard," Mimi cursed. "How long have you been in New York?"  
  
"About two months. Joel got a new job, some advertising job. Me, him, and Mama are living in a little house not too far from here."  
  
"Is Isabella here too?" Mimi asked, breathlessly.  
  
"She moved here about a week before we did. She has her own apartment," Daisha shivered.  
  
"Here, hon, you're freezing," Mimi exclaimed. She pulled off her own coat and wrapped it around the girl's shoulders.  
  
"Thanks," Daisha whispered. Now that Mimi was finally getting a good look at her, she could detect a few bruises under her eyes, and one on her jaw line. Mimi silently cursed Joel.  
  
"Mimi? Are you still there? Who is it?" Roger called again, stepping into the hallway.  
  
"Hello," he said when he saw Daisha, surprised and confused. He blinked. "Mimi, who is that?"  
  
"This is my sister, Daisha," Mimi told him. She put around Daisha's shoulders and pushed her forward gently. "Chica, this is my boyfriend, Roger."  
  
"Hi," Daisha said shyly.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Roger said, smiling. "I don't mean to be rude, but you look a bit distraught."  
  
"She's been through a lot, Rodge," Mimi spoke up for Daisha. She took her by the hand. "Do you want to get in the tub, chica? It might warm you up a bit."  
  
Daisha nodded. "Okay," she said softly.  
  
Mimi gently guided her into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind them. Right after the door closed, Mark emerged from his room.  
  
"Who's here?" he asked Roger. "I heard another voice."  
  
"Mimi's sister is here," said Roger, a weird twang in his voice.  
  
"Oh." Mark frowned. "I didn't know she had a sister."  
  
"Neither did I," Roger said. "She never mentioned her family to me."  
  
"Well, how about that," Mark yawned.  
  
"You're tired? It's not even seven yet," Roger said, glancing at his watch.  
  
Mark shrugged. "I didn't get that much sleep."  
  
Roger nodded. He walked over to the bathroom door and tapped on it lightly.  
  
"Yeah?" Mimi's voice asked through the door.  
  
"Do you two need anything?"  
  
"No, I've got it taken care of, thanks Rodge."  
  
"They're both in there?" Mark asked, confused.  
  
"Yeah, her sister looked a little beat up. Literally. I heard them talking from the living room. She said someone named Joel did it to her."  
  
"Weird," Mark said, frowning. "What's her sister's name?"  
  
"Daisha."  
  
"Daisha . . . is that Spanish?"  
  
"How would I know, Mark, I'm not Spanish, am I?" Roger asked, tired.  
  
"Me-OW," Said Mark.  
  
"Sorry," Roger said, sheepishly, "This is just a little weird."  
  
"I hear you."  
  
"What should we do?"  
  
"Just wait, I guess. There's nothing else that we can do, is there?"  
  
"I guess you're right," Roger sighed. He made his way over to the couch and collapsed onto it. He patted the spot beside him. "Wanna join me?"  
  
"Sure," Mark said, plopping beside Roger. A few minutes went by.  
  
"I was thinking about that girl that I knocked into earlier today," Mark spoke up. "You know, Jan."  
  
"How could I forget, Mark? She wasn't too bad looking."  
  
"She wasn't," Mark agreed, as a weird smile came over his face.  
  
Roger saw the look, and smiled himself. "You like her, don't you?"  
  
"Well, I can't really judge her from just bumping-SMACKING into her."  
  
"Well, you're never going to be able to judge her at all if you don't talk to her," Roger pushed.  
  
Mark shook his head. "I couldn't. Besides, I don't know where she lives."  
  
"Look her up in the phone book."  
  
"The phone book requires a LAST name, Roger," Mark said, impatiently. "I only caught her first."  
  
"That bites," Roger sighed. "You think Jan's her real name?"  
  
Mark shrugged. "Why does it matter?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
They sat in an awkward silence, waiting for Mimi and her sister to emerge.  
  
***  
  
"Honey, do you really have to do all of this?" Joanne yelled over the vacuum cleaner.  
  
Maureen switched it off so she could talk. "Pookie, I wanna let Jimmy see that I have a life now. I don't want him to come over here and think I'm an irresponsible slob."  
  
"You ARE a slob," Joanne teased.  
  
Maureen stuck her tongue out. "Don't go there," she warned.  
  
Joanne laughed. "Fine." She picked up the broom that Maureen had abandoned for the vacuum cleaner. She began to enthusiastically sweep the floor.  
  
"You don't need to do that, Pookie," Maureen said, absentmindedly. "I'm already on it."  
  
"Why be on that when you can be on better things?" Joanne said, mischievously.  
  
"POOKIE!" Maureen exclaimed, laughing. "I've never heard you talk so dirty!"  
  
"Heh, do you like it?"  
  
"It'll have to take some getting used to," Maureen said, giving Joanne a kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Nah, I'm just trying it out," Joanne said. "I'm not used to being so dirty."  
  
"Go figure," Maureen laughed.  
  
Joanne moved the broom into the closet, sweeping out all the dust. The broom bumped into a large flat object leaning against the back wall. Curious, Joanne pulled it aside so she could see what it was.  
  
"Honey Bear, come here!"  
  
"What's the matter?" Maureen asked, rushing beside her.  
  
"Did you make this?" Joanne asked, pointing to the canvas in front of her.  
  
"Oh, that?" Maureen blushed. "It's nothing, I was just fooling around."  
  
"Fooling around?!" Joanne exclaimed, "Maureen, this is amazing! I didn't know you were so artistic."  
  
"It is good, isn't it?" Maureen agreed, beaming. It was a large collage, containing several magazine clippings pasted. Joanne saw a younger man dangling a cigarette between his fingers. He saw a woman pushing a baby in a stroller, and then farther to the right was a woman sitting on a bench beside another man. Maureen had also cut out the background to make it look like the outline of buildings in the city. It appeared to be a collage of the city. Across the top, Maureen had skillfully painted, "Reality Check,' in dark black and purple colors, blending them together.  
  
"Wait a minute," Joanne said, squinting at the collage. "Is that me?"  
  
"Yup," Maureen said, still on a high of pride. "Mark isn't only good with his VIDEO camera, you know. I borrowed a couple of pictures he'd taken of you guys and stuck them here and there."  
  
Intrigued, Joanne looked for other recognizable faces. She found Mimi and Roger next to a cut out of a homeless man asleep on the sidewalk. She also spotted Collins, and beside him, was Angel. Maureen had pasted her higher off the ground then Collins, making it look like she was flying. A real Angel, Joanne thought. Mark was next to a faded picture of The Life Café.  
  
"Maureen, this is amazing," Joanne repeated. "Do you have any other secret artwork?"  
  
"I do have some paintings stashed away," Maureen said, reaching further into the closet, and tugging out 2 more canvases. Joanne shook her head in disbelief. "Why didn't you ever tell me you could do stuff like this?"  
  
"I don't know," Maureen said, shrugging. "I never thought they were an good."  
  
"An artist is always her biggest criticizer," Joanne told her. She paused for a moment. "Maureen, have you ever thought of hosting an Art Gallery with your stuff in it?"  
  
"Yes," Maureen admitted. "But then again, I also thought of performing onstage beside Marilyn Monroe."  
  
"This is something that actually could happen," Joanne said, excitedly. "We book a place for you, and we could invite everyone to come."  
  
"Maybe Jimmy could help us," Maureen said, thoughtfully. "I mean, he IS an Agent."  
  
"He is?" Joanne asked, curiously.  
  
"Yeah, that's how I met him. Before I came to the city, I was set on acting and singing. Jimmy became my agent, and then I ended up dating him for a little while ago. But things didn't end up working out to well between us. I was really surprised when I got a call from him."  
  
"Well, lucky you did!" Joanne said, "He might be able to help us get you a booking."  
  
Maureen smiled. "You think?"  
  
"Honey Bear, I KNOW." They kissed, and dreamily, Maureen switched the vacuum back on, humming to herself quietly.  
  
***  
  
"You alright, Frankie?" Collins asked, coming up behind her. He placed his hands on her waist.  
  
"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Frankie asked, turning to face him.  
  
"You've been unusually quiet."  
  
"I've just been thinking about today- about you and Angel," admitted Frankie.  
  
"What about me and Angel?" Collins said, quietly.  
  
"I don't know . . . Maureen and Mimi have told me so much about her. I wish I could have known her."  
  
Collins sighed silently, relieved that she wasn't commenting again on the fact that he used to be interested in other men. He was also pleased that Frankie had referred to Angel as a 'She.'  
  
"She was a great person," he agreed, sighing. He sat down at the kitchen table. Frankie sat down across from him.  
  
"It nearly killed me when she was in the hospital," he said, softly.  
  
"I'm sorry," whispered Frankie, grasping his hand in hers.  
  
Collins smiled. "It's fine. I'd like to think she's up there somewhere looking down on me and everyone else. Like she's where she should be now, you know? An Angel in heaven?"  
  
"Yes," Frankie said, smiling. Suddenly, the phone rang. "I'll get it," she offered, before Collins could get up. "Hello?" she said, as she held the phone to hear ear.  
  
"Hey, Frankie, It's Mimi. Can you put Collins on the phone, please?"  
  
"Sure, Mimi. Hold on a sec." Frankie handed the phone to Collins and mouthed 'It's Mimi' to him.  
  
"Hi, Mimi," Collins said, nestling the phone between his shoulder and chin. He frowned. "Why do you ask? Well, that's something that doesn't happen every day. Keep checking her temperature, and try giving her Tylenol. About every three hours, I think. Keep her in bed. No problem. I'll see you both tomorrow." He hung up the phone.  
  
"What is it?" Frankie questioned.  
  
Collins frowned. "Mimi's sister, Daisha showed up today at the loft. She's been living on the streets, and Mimi says she's sick. She asked me what to do because I was about this close to getting my medical degree," he said, holding his thumb and pointed finger close together.  
  
Frankie shook her head. "That's crazy," she said.  
  
"Yeah. I didn't even know Mimi had siblings. I guess you learn something new every day," he said, smiling.  
  
"I suppose you do," she said, smiling back. "I could teach you something in the bedroom, if you want."  
  
"Sounds enticing," he said, waggling his eyebrows. The two of them disappeared into Collins's bedroom, giggling.  
  
***  
  
Mimi finally exited the bathroom with Daisha, who was now wearing Mimi's bathrobe, her old clothes shed on the floor of the bathroom. Daisha's hair had been combed, and she looked fairly better. However, she was coughing violently, and Mimi patted her on the back gently. Daisha stopped coughing, and looked up to see Roger and Mark staring at the two of them.  
  
"This is Mark," Roger said quickly, seeing the confusion on her face. "He lives here too."  
  
Daisha nodded, and said hi to Mark, weakly.  
  
"Collins said to keep her in bed and give her some Tylenol," Mimi said, impatiently. "Roger, is it okay if she lies down in your room?"  
  
"Of course she can," said Roger.  
  
"Thanks," Mimi said, relieved. "Can you grab a couple of Tylenol and the thermometer for me?" she called, as she walked Daisha into Roger's room.  
  
"I'm right on it," Roger yelled back to her, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol and the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. He went into the bedroom, with Mark behind him. Mimi gave Daisha a glass of water and she swallowed two Tylenol.  
  
"Rodge, hand me the thermometer, will you?"  
  
Roger obeyed.  
  
Mimi stuck it under Daisha's tongue and waited a couple of minutes.  
  
"One-oh-two," she said, as she slid it out from under her tongue.  
  
"I don't wanna be such a burden," Daisha apologized, coughing.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, Daish. Besides, you're family. I HAVE to look after you," Mimi joked.  
  
Daisha smiled and closed her eyes slowly.  
  
"We'll let you rest now," said Mimi, getting up. "C'mon," she said to Roger and Mark. Quickly, she pulled the quilt up to Daisha's chin, and kissed her on the cheek. "I'll be right outside if you need me," she said. Daisha nodded, her eyes still closed. Mimi, Roger and Mark exited the room quietly.  
  
"Are you alright?" Roger asked Mimi.  
  
Mimi nodded. "It's just when I look at her I think- that's what I must have looked like last December. And I hate to think she was out on the streets just like I was."  
  
"It's alright," soothed Roger, pulling her towards him. She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, and he ran his fingers through her tangled hair.  
  
"My stepfather, Joel, hit her," Mimi whispered. "I remember when we were little, when I was thirteen, Daisha was eight, and my older sister Isabella was eighteen. He always used to beat ME. My mother couldn't stop him. She didn't know about it. I guess after I left he started to pick on Daisha," Mimi shivered. "She seems to follow in my footsteps no matter what."  
  
"It's alright now, Meems. She's away from your stepfather now, right?"  
  
Mimi shook her head. "Joel and my mother moved into a small house now far form here, according to Daisha. My sister Isabella got her own apartment, and Daisha says she let about a week ago."  
  
"How did she find you?" Mark asked.  
  
"When we were in the bathroom, she said when she was on the streets she had thrown my name around, seeing if anyone knew who I was. Someone she asked must have given her this address."  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
Mimi sighed again. "I hope I won't have to see Joel again. I don't think I'd be able to stand it."  
  
"If you do, I'll go with you," Roger promised, nuzzling his chin against her head.  
  
"Thanks," she whispered, smiling.  
  
"No problem," he whispered back, and they kissed, silently.  
  
Mark watched them, and grasped the small slip of paper in his hand tightly. He had found a book in the bag he had been carrying earlier that wasn't his. When he'd looked at the inside cover, Jan's name had been inside it, containing her phone number. Mark uncrumpled the piece of paper, and stared at the numbers he had copied onto it with black Sharpie marker. He wondered if he should call her. He looked up at Mimi and Roger, who were starting to finally part. Quickly, Mark shoved the number into his pocket.  
  
"Let's go into the living room," Roger suggested.  
  
"Okay," said Mimi, leaning against him.  
  
The two of them left, leaving Mark alone.  
  
a/n: So, where is this story going? Will I *cough* Jan hook up? How many licks DOES it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop? 


	3. Til You're Torn Apart

Daisha awoke to the sound of Roger and Mark shuffling around in the hallway. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. Her face still felt clammy, but she felt a lot better than she had yesterday. The door opened suddenly, revealing Roger.  
  
"You feeling okay?" he asked, seeing that she was awake.  
  
"Yes. I feel much better," she said, smiling. "I'm sorry I had to use your bed."  
  
"It's no problem. Any sister of Mimi's is a sister of mine," he said, winking. Mimi appeared beside him, peeking into the room. "Are you feeling better, Daish?"  
  
Daisha nodded. "I am. I feel a lot better."  
  
"Do you want to check your temperature again?" Mimi asked.  
  
"I'll do it myself," said Daisha, I don't want to be anymore trouble.  
  
Roger left the room and fished the thermometer back out of the medicine cabinet, and came back into the bedroom, handing it to Daisha. A moment went by, and Daisha slipped the thermometer back out of her mouth. "Ninety- Eighty point Eight," she read aloud.  
  
"Thank God," Sighed Mimi. She lay down on the bed beside Daisha. "What did Joel do, exactly?" she whispered, biting her lip.  
  
Daisha paused, and looked up at Roger. "I'm going," he said, nodding, and closed the door behind him.  
  
Daisha sat up in bed, with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. "He hit me a lot," she said, softly. "Sometimes for no apparent reason. It was always when Mommy wasn't around."  
  
Mimi nodded slowly, remembering how Joel used to treat her the same away.  
  
"Recently he started acting really weird . . . like, he'd come up behind me and tell me I was pretty, or touch my chest or behind and pretend it was by accident." Tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes. "The final straw was when he told me he wanted to sleep with me."  
  
Mimi's mouth dropped open.  
  
"I don't know if he was drunk or not, but it scared the hell out of me. I packed my stuff and left. Thankfully, I ended up here."  
  
"Thankfully," Mimi agreed, hugging her younger sister tightly. "I'm so sorry, sweetie- he used to treat me he same way. That was partly the reason why I left."  
  
"Why DID you leave?" Daisha asked softly, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand.  
  
"My disease," Mimi said quietly. "When I told Mama, she wouldn't talk to me. Joel just became enraged, he was like an animal. He called me a whore and told me if I slept around with whoever I pleased, I might as well be sleeping on the streets, rather than living under his roof. And that's what I did."  
  
"I HATE him," Daisha trembled, starting to tear up again.  
  
"So do I, Chica. It'll be alright though," she soothed, patting her on the shoulder.  
  
"Do you promise?" Daisha whispered, looking up at her older sister.  
  
"I promise."  
  
***  
  
A loud knocking on the door woke Roger from his reverie on the couch.  
  
"Coming," he called, annoyed. He opened the door. He didn't even need to look twice to know that it was Mimi's sister. She had the same color skin, the same brunette curly hair, the same smile, even the same small button nose. The only difference was that she was taller, standing almost as high as Roger."  
  
"Hi," she said, smiling. "Does Mimi Marquez live here?"  
  
"Well, she doesn't LIVE here, per say," Roger said, stupidly. "She is here though, yes."  
  
Mimi's sister eyes widened with excitement. "Could you tell her Isabella is here?" she said, practically whispering.  
  
"Sure. You can come see her yourself. She's talked about you," he said.  
  
"She has?" Isabella asked, looking pleased.  
  
"Yup. Daisha's here too."  
  
"Yes, I know. She called me from a pay phone yesterday and told me where she was. She gave me the address of the building." She paused and glanced at a crumpled pair of leather pants on the floor. "Those are definitely Mimi's," she laughed.  
  
Roger kicked the pants to the side with his foot, embarrassed. "Oh, um, you know, that was just from when . . ."  
  
"I understand," she said winking.  
  
"Alright," he said, blushing. "I'll get Mimi for you." He knocked on the door of his room. "Meems? Someone's here to see you and Daisha."  
  
"One moment," Mimi's voice answered through the door. Isabella looked overjoyed to hear the sound of her voice again. The knob turned, and Daisha and Mimi walked out. Daisha smiled with pleasant surprise when she saw Isabella. Mimi stared, her mouth wide open.  
  
"Izzie?"  
  
Without warning, Isabella ran over to Mimi, sweeping the smaller Latina who was a head or two shorter than her into her arms.  
  
"Oh-My-Gosh, Mimi, I've missed you so much!" she cried, squeezing her tightly.  
  
"Iz, you're killing me, here," Mimi giggled from behind Isabella's arms.  
  
"Sorry," laughed Isabella, unable to hide her excitement. "You look great, Mimi! God, I can't believe it's been almost two years . . ."  
  
"Me neither," Mimi sighed, hugging her back.  
  
Isabella looked over her shoulder at Daisha. "I guess you two have already been re-acquainted."  
  
Daisha nodded, smiling.  
  
"You had me and Mama worried," she continued. It wasn't a surprise to Mimi that Isabella didn't add Joel.  
  
"I'm sorry," said Daisha, quietly. She shuffled her feet on the wooden floor.  
  
"It's alright, at least I know your safe," Isabella smiled. She turned to Roger. "So, who are you, handsome?"  
  
"That's my boyfriend, Roger," Mimi said, quickly.  
  
Isabella eyed him again, more closely than she had when she had first walked in the door. "Not bad," she said, approvingly. Both Roger and Mimi blushed.  
  
"Who's here?" Mark's voice rang out, as he walked into the hallway. He stopped when he saw Isabella. "ANOTHER one?" he exclaimed, seeing the resemblance to Mimi.  
  
"Hush, Mark," Mimi said, slapping him lightly on the arm. "This is my sister, Isabella."  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said automatically, shaking her hand. Then he turned to Mimi. "There aren't any more Marquezes, are there?"  
  
"Unfortunately, no," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Thank God," he pretended to be relieved.  
  
"Quiet, Cohen," Roger joked, punching him lightly on the shoulder.  
  
There was another knock on the door suddenly, louder this time.  
  
"I thought you said there weren't anymore," Mark said, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"There aren't," Isabella said.  
  
Roger went to answer the door. "Well, the whole gang's here," he announced, as Maureen, Joanne, Collins and Frankie entered the apartment.  
  
"Jeez," said Isabella.  
  
"This is Maureen, Joanne, Collins, and Frankie," Roger recited, pointing to each. They all waved and said hello, looking confused.  
  
"This is my younger sister, Daisha," Mimi said quickly, motioning her head towards Daisha, "And this is my older sister, Isabella."  
  
Another chorus of 'Helloes' rang out.  
  
"Well, this is a bit new," Collins acknowledged. There was an awkward silence.  
  
"So!" Maureen piped up, breaking the ice. "Who's hungry?"  
  
***  
  
"Be sure to give him a big tip," Maureen whispered to Mark as Seb left the table. The look on his face when he'd seen the large group coming had been priceless.  
  
"God, I haven't eaten in a restaurant in so long, it seems," Daisha said, as she wolfed down her cheeseburger.  
  
"Hey there, don't choke," Frankie exclaimed, from the opposite side of her.  
  
"Don't worry about it. The kid could use some meat on her bones," Isabella joked, leaning back in her chair.  
  
"I'm not a kid," Daisha shot back, from behind the cheeseburger.  
  
"You're fifteen. Technically, you're not considered a grown-up until you're eighteen. In conclusion- you're a kid."  
  
Daisha stuck her tongue out at Isabella and continued eating.  
  
"You're such a bad influence," Roger whispered to Mimi, teasingly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'll bet she got that tongue thing from you."  
  
"Oh . . . Well the OTHER tongue thing, I patented myself," Mimi joked.  
  
"Mimi Conchita Marquez," he gasped, feigning shock.  
  
"What's wrong?" Maureen asked, looking up from her plate of Sushi.  
  
"Nothing," Mimi giggled, and Roger winked at her.  
  
Maureen shrugged and turned to Joanne. "So Jimmy's coming in about an hour. I've gotta get all my artwork out to show him."  
  
"Alright," said Joanne, glancing at the others. "Aren't you going to tell them?"  
  
"Nah, I wanna surprise them," Maureen said.  
  
Joanne shrugged. "Alright, it's your art."  
  
"That's the beauty of it," Maureen winked.  
  
"So, where's your apartment?" Frankie asked Isabella.  
  
"Oh, not too far from here," Isabella paused. "About five blocks away, I think. Not too far."  
  
Frankie nodded, smiling.  
  
"So, how long have you been together," Isabella asked, motioning to Collins.  
  
"Us? We've been together for a couple of months now," Collins said, wrapping his arm around Frankie.  
  
"That must be nice," sighed Isabella. "I haven't met a guy that hasn't tried to screw me over yet."  
  
"Still?" said Mimi, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"It might be easy for you, Meems, but for others, we actually have to meet a guy rather than fall into her lap."  
  
A hurt expression came over Mimi's face.  
  
"Oh, God, I didn't mean it like that, Mimi."  
  
"Of course you didn't, Mimi said, quietly. "Excuse me," she made her way past Roger, Daisha, Collins, and Frankie's chairs and went outside.  
  
"Crap, I screwed up," Isabella said, angrily. "See, THIS is why I can ever meet anybody. My big mouth."  
  
"I'll go talk to her," Roger offered, getting up.  
  
He found Mimi outside, sulking against the wall of the restaurant.  
  
"She didn't mean it like that, Meems," he said softly, reaching out to stroke her cheek.  
  
"I KNOW what she meant," Mimi snapped, angrily. "She thinks I'm a whore."  
  
"She doesn't," Roger protested, lamely.  
  
Mimi sighed. "You didn't live in our house, Roger. You don't know all the shit we went through."  
  
"Because you never told me," Roger said, getting annoyed. "I didn't even know you had sisters before yesterday.  
  
"Well maybe I never mentioned them because I thought I'd never see them again, and I didn't want to remember," Mimi shot back.  
  
Roger threw up his hands, in defeat. "Fine, Mimi. You win. I'm going back inside."  
  
Roger disappeared back into the building.  
  
Mimi folded her arms against her chest, frowning. She could still remember the conversation that she'd had with Isabella the day she left home. She could remember it like it was yesterday.  
  
***  
  
"You whore!" Joel screamed, grabbing fifteen-year-old Mimi by her slim trembling wrists.  
  
"STOP IT, Joel," she cried, trying to wrench away from him.  
  
"Don't call me Joel- I'm your FATHER, understand?" he shouted, shoving her away from him. Mimi collapsed against the wall, crying softly.  
  
"Did you LIKE it?" Joel snarled, walking over to her. "Or was it a bunch of different people? Did you enjoy it? Letting all of them FUCK you?"  
  
"YOU'RE NOT MY FATHER!" Mimi screamed, tears streaming down her face.  
  
Enraged, Joel raised his hand, preparing to strike her.  
  
"Joel, STOP IT," Isabella's voice yelled from behind him.  
  
Joel turned to her. "Why? You're sister's a slut, Isabella. And this is how people like you end up!" he yelled at Mimi, who was sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
"Get out, Joel," Isabella said, in a tired voice.  
  
Anger flashed in Joel's eyes. "I don't want to see you when I come back in here," he said to Mimi, coldly. "I don't care if you're in your room, or out on the streets, but I don't want you in my sight." He turned sharply on the balls of his feet and stormed out of the room.  
  
Mimi could hear him and Conchita, Mimis mother, fighting, and ten-year-old Daisha pleading with her mother to stop screaming.  
  
"Why do you do these things, Mimi?" Isabella sighed, sitting down next to her crying sister.  
  
"I told you that that club wouldn't lead to anything good."  
  
Mimi leaned her head against the wall and wept.  
  
"Was it Ryan that gave it to you?"  
  
Mimi didn't answer.  
  
"Or was it someone else?" Isabella said angrily, her voice turning cold her. "For God sakes, I don't even know how many people you've been sleeping with over the past month, Mimi! Why the hell do you do this to us?"  
  
"I don't know," Mimi whispered, weakly. "I'm sorry."  
  
Isabella shook her head, disgusted. "The problem with you, Mimi, is that you're selfish. You think you can just do whatever the hell you want and it won't hurt anyone else? Well, it's time to WAKE UP, Mimi. Get your head cleared from all the drugs you've been doing, and all the needles you've been shooting up on and get some fucking RESPONSIBILITY!"  
  
Mimi bit her lip, so hard that she tasted blood on the tip of her tongue.  
  
Isabella shook her head again. She got up, and started to leave.  
  
"Isabella," Mimi whispered, weakly.  
  
Isabella turned around. "You heard Joel," she said, coldly. "You better get up and get into your room and out of his sight before he comes back in here."  
  
"I'll do better than that," Mimi said, through gritted teeth, as Isabella left the room. She went up into her room, quietly taking an old duffel back from her closet, stuffing it with some clothes, and her wallet. An old picture frame caught her eye. It was of Mimi, Isabella, her mother, and her father. The picture had been taken before Daisha was born. Mimi considered taking it. Then she decided against it. She gently placed the picture facedown, and got up to her feet. She tore a piece of notebook paper out of one of her school binders and scrawled a note to Isabella.  
  
Iz- You and Joel told me that I'd best get out of your sight. So I'm doing you a favor. I'm getting out of your sight. PERMANENTLY. Tell Mama I love her. Don't come after me. -Mimi  
  
She placed the note on Isabella's bed, as the two of them shared a room. Finally, she crept quietly down the stairs, and left.  
  
***  
  
"Earth to Mimi," Mark said, waving a hand in front of Mimi's face. Mimi snapped back to reality. "What?"  
  
"Jeez, you really must have been zoned out," Mark said. "We're all done. We're ready to go."  
  
Mimi looked up at the others. Isabella smiled weakly at her. Mimi turned away. "Are you coming?" Mark asked.  
  
"I'm coming."  
  
"You sure you're okay?" Roger asked Mimi, as the group walked on ahead of them.  
  
"I'm fine." Mimi forced a smile.  
  
"Alright, if you're sure," Roger said, although he sounded like he didn't believe her. He walked up ahead of the group to talk to Mark.  
  
Mimi dragged behind in the back, pausing to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.  
  
a/n: Em0- No violence yet :-p. Sorry to keep you guys waiting. 


	4. A Happy Medium

"Shouldn't he have come by now?" Joanne asked Maureen, shuffling on the sofa impatiently.  
  
"He'll be here," Maureen said firmly, looking out the window at the street below them. "I know him. He's late for EVERYTHING."  
  
"If you say so," Joanne sighed, lying back against one of the sofa pillows and closing her eyes. A knock on the door caused her eyes to snap open.  
  
"Told you so," Maureen sang, as she skipped over to open the door.  
  
"Mo?" Joanne heard a deep voice. "That really you? God, I can't believe it. You haven't changed a bit."  
  
"Nice to see you too, Jimmy," Maureen said, smiling. "Come inside, please."  
  
Joanne peeked over the couch arm to get a glimpse of Jimmy. He was tall, and he wore a gray pressed suit. Boring, Joanne thought. He had thin light brown hair, and it looked like he had been trying to grow a thin mustache above his upper lip. To Joanne's dismay, he wasn't TOO bad looking.  
  
"Honey, this is my old friend, Jimmy," Maureen said, as she pulled Jimmy over to the couch.  
  
"Jimmy, this is Joanne. My girlfriend." She said the word 'Girlfriend' firmly, as if trying to prove a point.  
  
"Yes, Mo told me about you." He held out a large hand. "Nice to meet you." Joanne shook his hand, eyeing him strangely.  
  
"Well," Maureen chuckled, nervously. "How've you been, Jim?"  
  
"Me? I'm doing pretty well. Though I haven't had a real steady girlfriend since you left, Mo."  
  
Maureen blushed, and flashed Joanne a 'Don't hate me' look. "You never could get a grip on things, Jimmy," she said, forcing a prim smile.  
  
"Don't I know it. So how've YOU been, Maureen? Seems like it's been a century since the last time I saw you. Hell, the right side of my bed's freezing." He laughed obnoxiously.  
  
Maureen glanced at Joanne nervously. She could see that she was NOT getting a good first impression off of him. She didn't blame her. His obnoxiousness was one of the reasons why she left him.  
  
"Well," she said, carefully, "A little while after we broke up, I met my other ex, Mark. We stayed together for a few months, and we lived together with his roommates, Roger and Collins. We're still good friends."  
  
"You had ANOTHER ex? Jeez, Maureen, what's your record?"  
  
"Only two," Maureen snapped. "Anyway, soon after I broke up with Mark, I met Joanne. I had gotten my own apartment after me and Mark broke up, and we decided that Joanne should move in with me."  
  
"Oh . . .," Jimmy said slowly, a smile curling over his lips. "And when did you realize that you had, you know . . . lesbian tendencies?"  
  
"What's wrong with you?" Maureen cried, and at the exact same time Joanne yelled, "Shut up!"  
  
Jimmy seemed appalled, not realizing how rude his statement had been.  
  
"What we mean is," Maureen said calmly, through gritted teeth, "We prefer not to use that word."  
  
"Alright, jeez, kill me," he exclaimed, throwing his hands out in front of him. "Let's change the subject, then. What else have you been up to?"  
  
"Maureen's been painting," Joanne spoke up, suddenly, and the two turned to face her. "She's done some collages too."  
  
"That so?" Jimmy said, looking at Maureen with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Oh, um, yeah it's just fooling around, they're not really that good," Maureen stuttered, embarrassed.  
  
"They're BRILLIANT," Joanne insisted.  
  
Jimmy looked interested. "You mind if I take a look?" he asked.  
  
"Sure," Joanne replied, before Maureen could say anything. "It's over here, in the closet."  
  
Jimmy followed Joanne, with Maureen close behind. "Ta-dah!" Joanne sang out, to Maureen's horror, as she swung the closet door open.  
  
"Well, now," Jimmy said, raising his eyebrows as he studies the New York City collage, "These ARE good. I never knew you had an eye for art, Mo."  
  
"I guess the topic never came up," Maureen replied, dully.  
  
"Did you ever try to show these, Mo?" he asked turning one of the paintings over to look at the one behind it.  
  
"Nope."  
  
"You should. This isn't just kindergarten splattering, Mo. This is real art!"  
  
Maureen beamed, looking at Joanne proudly.  
  
"I could book you a place to show these, if you want," he told her. "I've got connections," he said, winking.  
  
"I- I'd like that, yes," Maureen exclaimed, trying to contain her excitement.  
  
"Great." He pulled out a small notebook from his coat pocket, and scrawled down a note to remind himself.  
  
"You need to write things down to remember them?" Joanne asked, quizzically.  
  
"That's the way it works with me, Jo. There's so much stuff going on in my head, I'd lose my head if I didn't write down that I had to retrieve it!" he seemed to think this was funny.  
  
"I see," Joanne said, and then flatly, "And it's JOANNE."  
  
"Sorry, Jo. Joanne, whatever." He turned to Maureen. "So I'll try to set this up for you, 'kay Babe?"  
  
"Yes," Maureen said, breathlessly. "Thank you."  
  
"Consider it my coming-home gift to you. Now, shall I take you two lovely ladies out to lunch?"  
  
"We just ate," Joanne said, flatly. Maureen shot her a weird look. "Yeah, we did just have lunch, Jimmy," Maureen said. "We went out with some friends."  
  
"Well, then. Am I going to meet these friends?"  
  
"If you'd like."  
  
"Great," he said again, flashing a cheesy-white smile. Joanne sighed, and rolled over on the sofa.  
  
***  
  
"You wanna tell me what's going on?" Roger asked Mimi, as they climbed into bed. Mark was in his room, and Daisha was sleeping on the living room couch. Isabella had gone back to her apartment.  
  
"What do you mean?" Mimi asked, as she slid underneath the covers.  
  
"Something's bothering you. And I think it's more than just what your sister said."  
  
"Do you?" Mimi said, irritated.  
  
"You can't hide these things from me, Meems," he said, grinning. "I KNOW you."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" she snapped.  
  
"If you don't talk, it'll just fester inside of you until you go insane," he taunted, obnoxiously.  
  
Mimi rolled over. "God, Roger, you can be such an ass sometimes."  
  
"But you know you love it," he joked, leaning closer towards her. Mimi felt his breath on the back of her neck.  
  
"Please, Meems?"  
  
Mimi sighed, and sat up in bed. "It's just that what she said reminded me of what happened before I left home."  
  
Roger propped himself up in his elbows, and looked up at her. "What happened?"  
  
Mimi chewed her lip for a moment before speaking. "I just remember that my stepfather was screaming at me," she began, softly. "He was calling me a whore, and telling me that I deserved to live on the streets, and not in the house. I told him he wasn't my father, and he would have hit me is Isabella hadn't walked in.  
  
Roger listened, silently. He placed his hand on her knee and squeezed, reassuringly.  
  
Mimi smiled, weakly. "Isabella told Joel off, and he left the room. I thought that Isabella would be more understanding, but she was just as bad," she sniffed, pulling her knees in closer to her small body, curling up in a ball. "She told me that I'd better leave before he came back. I knew she didn't mean it that way, but I really did leave. For good." She laid back down, sighing. Roger laid his chin on her chest.  
  
"Isabella was just upset," he insisted, trying to make her feel better. "You saw how happy she was to see you today. She probably regretted saying that as soon as she realized you'd gone."  
  
"Maybe," Mimi murmured. She forced a smile. "At least I got to finally see her and Daisha again, right?"  
  
"Right," he agreed. "Since you're having a huge family reunion, maybe I should invite my folks and my sister over here too."  
  
"Don't," Mimi giggled. "I don't think I could handle more than one Davis."  
  
"Are you sure?" he teased.  
  
"One of you is definitely enough," she laughed.  
  
Roger pretended to pout, and slipped his hand under her shirt, tickling her stomach.  
  
"STOP!" she squealed, kicking her leg out at him. Her foot struck him in the jaw.  
  
"Ow, crap!" he exclaimed, raising his hand up to his face.  
  
"Are you okay, Baby?" Mimi asked, startled. She sat up and leaned against him, trying to see if he was bleeding.  
  
"I think you cut my lip," he said, wincing.  
  
"Well, we're even," said Mimi, raising her foot so that it was directly in front of his face.  
  
Roger raised his eyebrows. "Meems, that's your foot."  
  
"Yeah, but it hurts like a bitch," she declared, "What are you, made of steel?"  
  
Roger looked closer and realized that her toes were bright red from smacking into his mouth. Suddenly, he began to laugh.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes. "It's not funny."  
  
"Yes it is," he said, laughing. Suddenly, Mimi began to giggle too, and soon the two of them were lying back against the pillows laughing like a couple of idiots, Roger with his split lip, and Mimi with her swollen foot.  
  
In the room next to them, Mark sat Indian style on his bed, the phone cradles in his lap. He was about to dial when he heard Roger and Mimi cackling like hyenas.  
  
"Could you two please shut up!" he yelled, "I'm trying to make a phone call!"  
  
The laughing stopped for a minute. Then, he heard Mimi whisper something to Roger, and the two erupted with laughter again.  
  
Mark sighed. He dialed the phone, ignoring the two of them, and brought it up to his ear. A woman's voice answered.  
  
"Hi, is this Jan?"  
  
"Yes. Who is this?" the reply came.  
  
Mark smiled in spite of himself. "Well, I don't know if you'd remember me. My name's Mark Cohen. I sort of banged into you outside the Life Café yesterday. I have your book with me. You must have slipped it into my bag by accident."  
  
"I thought I'd forgotten something!" Jan exclaimed, on the other end of the phone. "What book is it?"  
  
"Um, Flowers in the Attic," he read, raising his eyebrows at the title. "You like that stuff?"  
  
"It's okay," she replied. Mark could almost hear her smiling.  
  
"Listen Jan, um, if you're not busy or anything, I was wondering if you'd want to do something, maybe tomorrow, or whenever you're available?"  
  
The two of them continued to converse, and a wide smile spread across Mark's face. 


	5. Freaks and Film Geeks

"Where are you going, Mark?"  
  
Mark nearly dropped his camera, as he hadn't known that Mimi was in the room. It was about eight in the morning, and he was going out to meet Jan at her apartment.  
  
"Me? Nowhere. I was just gonna get some fresh air, you know?"  
  
"Mark, I'm not stupid. Tell me where you're going," Mimi insisted, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt.  
  
Mark sighed. "Okay, you know that girl I met at the Life Café yesterday?"  
  
"More like smacked into," Mimi smirked.  
  
"Yeah, well, I got her number, and I called her last night. I'm meeting her at her apartment."  
  
Mimi's face lit up. "Mark, that's great! It's about time you found someone!"  
  
Mark rolled his eyes. "Meems, I don't even know her yet. I can hardly say that I 'found someone.'"  
  
"I think she will be," Mimi declared. And Mark knew that once Mimi decided something, her mind was made up permanently.  
  
"Well, we'll see, won't we?" he said, nervously. "Don't tell Roger where I am, okay?"  
  
"Why not? You tell him everything."  
  
"Just because he was teasing me about it yesterday . . . and now that I'm actually taking his advice I'd rather he say 'I told you so' AFTER I figure out whether this is someone I' be willing to share my life with."  
  
Mimi looked impressed. "How thoughtful of you," she said, teasingly.  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm gonna go now." He picked up his camera and started for the door.  
  
"Why are you taking that thing?" Mimi called after him.  
  
"This?" Mark shrugged. "I don't know, I take it everywhere. I feel naked without it." And with that, he left.  
  
Mimi chuckled, and went back into Roger's room to get dressed.  
  
***  
  
"Did Mark tell you where he was going?" Roger asked Mimi. They were on the couch, watching TV. Mimi sat in Roger's lap, staring blankly at the screen.  
  
"Nope," she said. "When I woke up, he'd already gone." She'd never considered herself a good liar, but Roger seemed to buy it.  
  
"Okay," he sighed. "Where's Daisha?"  
  
"I'm here." Daisha walked over to where Mimi and Roger were sitting, and settled onto Mimi's lap.  
  
"Ouch," Roger groaned playfull, under both their weight. "You guys are gonna kill me."  
  
Mimi slapped his arm playfully smiling, and turned to Daisha. "How did you sleep, honey?"  
  
Daisha shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I didn't really sleep though. I'm not used to living in the city. There's so much noise at night."  
  
"Tell me about it," Roger sighed, from underneath them.  
  
"You wanna get some breakfast?" Mimi asked him.  
  
"I'm starved," Daisha declared, before Roger could answer.  
  
"Okay." Mimi slid out from underneath Daisha and sat beside Roger. "Do you want to go to the Life?"  
  
"Nah. If Seb sees us there again, he'll have a heart attack," said Roger.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Where do you wanna go then?"  
  
"What about the Moondance Diner?" he suggested. "I eat there with the guys all the time." By 'The Guys,' Roger meant his band, The Well Hungarians. They had a gig at CBGB's coming up soon.  
  
"Sounds good to me," Mimi said. "You want me to call the others so we can meet them there?"  
  
"Don't worry about it, I'll do it," Roger told her.  
  
"Not if I get there first," Mimi teased.  
  
Daisha yelped as Roger scrambled from underneath her to race Mimi to the phone. Mimi got there first. Roger ran up behind her and scooped the phone out of her hands and held it above his head.  
  
"Roger!" Mimi complained, as she jumped up in the air, her hand just inches from the phone.  
  
"Say pretty please, Roger."  
  
She said it. Daisha sat on the couch, laughing and shaking her head.  
  
"Here ya go." He handed the phone to Mimi. She tweaked his rear end as he walked away, much to Daisha's delight.  
  
"Are you two always like this?" she asked, laughing.  
  
"Like what?" Roger asked innocently, sitting back down beside her.  
  
When Mimi was done making the calls, the three of them walked down to the Moondance Diner. Mimi had called Maureen and Joanne, and Collins and Frankie. Roger realized that she hadn't bothered to call Isabella, but he kept quiet about it.  
  
"Vamanos, Chicas," he said, as they followed him out the door.  
  
***  
  
"Well, this is a change," Collins said, as he observed the inside of the Moondance Diner.  
  
"Not to me," Frankie said, as she slid into the chair next to him. "I used to come down here with friends all the time."  
  
"I might have been here a couple of years ago," Maureen said thoughtfully, as she arrived with Joanne and Jimmy. "By the way, guys, this is my friend, Jimmy. He's the one who called me the other day on Jo's phone."  
  
They all said hello, and Jimmy made himself right at home, sliding in beside Mimi.  
  
"Why, hello there," he said, winking at her. "What's your name?"  
  
"It's Mimi," she said, slowly, uncomfortable with the manner he was taking towards her. Roger noticed this too, and it bothered him.  
  
"So when did you and Mo first meet?" he asked Jimmy.  
  
"I don't know, maybe two years ago? We first met because she wanted me to help her become an actress."  
  
Maureen's hands clenched into fists as he snickered when he said the word 'Actress.'  
  
"I guess we just became closer after that, and we started dating," Jimmy said, leaning back in his chair. "But things just didn't work out, as you see. She had bigger fish to fry."  
  
"Don't call me 'She,'" Maureen said, annoyed. "I'm sitting right here."  
  
"Yeah, whatever. Anyway, how long have you two been together?" he asked, leaning forward in his seat, directing his question toward Mimi and Roger.  
  
"Almost two years now, I think," said Roger. "We met on Christmas Eve."  
  
"Well, that's nice. If you ever decide you don't want her, let me know," he laughed obnoxiously. Both of their faces turned red with anger.  
  
"Jimmy might book me a place to hold an art gallery," Maureen said quickly, sensing Roger and Mimi's discomfort.  
  
"An Art gallery?" Collins said, frowning. "I didn't know you were an artist."  
  
"Neither did I," Maureen said, laughing. "Joanne found some of my stuff in the closet, and then we showed it to Jimmy, and he said he'd try to get me an opening."  
  
"For a suitable price, that is," Jimmy interrupted, chuckling.  
  
Maureen turned to him. "What? You never said anything about wanting something in return before."  
  
"I didn't want anything then," he said, simply.  
  
Maureen rolled her eyes. "Right, and now all of a sudden you decided I had to do something for you? Besides, you said it was a gift from you to me, remember?"  
  
"I remember."  
  
Maureen sighed. "What is it you want, anyway?"  
  
Jimmy, who was staring at Mimi, didn't seem to hear her.  
  
"Jimmy?"  
  
Jimmy suddenly snapped to attention. "What was that?"  
  
"Never mind," Maureen said, shaking her head.  
  
"You used to date this guy?" Joanne said, under her breath.  
  
"What can I say, I was stupid then," Maureen whispered back.  
  
"I've gotta use the Ladies Room," Daisha spoke up suddenly, getting up from the table.  
  
"I'll go with you," Mimi said quickly. She could feel Jimmy's eyes on her as she walked away with Daisha.  
  
"So Roger, where's Mark, anyway?" Frankie asked Roger.  
  
Roger shrugged. "Beats me. Mimi got up before me and said he had already left."  
  
"Where do you think he went?" Maureen asked, her fingers dragging over the rim of her glass.  
  
Roger shrugged. "I have no idea. He never said anything to me."  
  
"Well, men can be sneaky," Frankie said, winking at Collins.  
  
"You accusing me of something?" he said, pretending to be angry.  
  
"No. You know how to behave yourself," she joked, patting him on the arm.  
  
"At least some of them know how to," Maureen said flatly, looking at Jimmy. Suddenly, a trashy, muffled obnoxious version of 'Fur Elise' began to play, loudly.  
  
"Since when does your phone do that?" Maureen asked Joanne, as she rummaged through her bag.  
  
Joanne reached into her bag and got her phone. "It's not mine," she said. "Mine's off."  
  
"It's his," Roger said, pointing to Jimmy, who had already switched his cellular phone on, and was talking to the person on the other line. He realized that they were all glaring at him, reproachfully.  
  
"Oh, erm. Hold on," he pulled the phone away from his ear. "You mind if I take this outside?"  
  
"Go ahead," Roger said, speaking for everyone else as well.  
  
"He's quite a character," Frankie said to Maureen, as soon as he'd left.  
  
"Tell me about it," Maureen sighed.  
  
"How were you able to stand him?" Collins exclaimed. He caught himself from saying, 'Even I wouldn't date a guy like that.'  
  
"I don't know," Maureen sighed. "Somehow during our relationship I stopped seeing him as an agent trying to get work for me, and started to become attracted to him."  
  
Joanne exaggerated a shudder, and Maureen laughed. "I told you, Pookie, I was stupid then. Remember, I also used to date Mark." She paused for a moment, glancing at Roger. "I was joking."  
  
"I know," Roger said. "I'm just wondering where he could be."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Collins said, reassuringly.  
  
Roger shrugged and took a sip from his glass.  
  
***  
  
"You almost done in there?" Mimi said to Daisha, who was still in the stall.  
  
"Yeah, hold your horses!" came her reply.  
  
"You've been in there for an hour," Mimi groaned.  
  
"Have not." Daisha opened the stall door. She smiled at Mimi. "Remember when we used to fight like this when we were kids?"  
  
"Yes" Mimi admitted, a smile coming across her face. "Mom needed to put us in separate rooms to keep us from killing each other."  
  
Daisha laughed. "Were you and Isabella ever like that?"  
  
At the mention of Isabella's name, Mimi's laughter subsided. "No," she said, softly. "We got along pretty well."  
  
"You're still mad at her, aren't you?" Daisha observed.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"I dunno. You just seemed uncomfortable as soon as I said her name."  
  
"Yeah, well," Mimi sighed. "I'm just pissed about what she said yesterday, you know?"  
  
Daisha nodded. "I would be too," she said. "But she didn't mean anything by it."  
  
Mimi shrugged and rinsed her hands in the sink.  
  
"So, what do you think of Jimmy?" Daisha asked, hopping onto the sink counter.  
  
"You know how many germs are on there?" Mimi asked her, wiping her hands off with a paper towel.  
  
Daisha rolled her eyes and slid off the counter. "Sorry, Mom." She paused, before asking again, "So what did you think of him?"  
  
"Truthfully?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I think he's an asshole."  
  
"Really? I think he's kind of cute," Daisha said, grinning sheepishly.  
  
"I don't know, maybe I'm just being paranoid. I didn't like how he kept staring at me."  
  
"Mimi, all guys stare at you, you're GORGEOUS," Daisha insisted. "Somehow I got the ugly gene."  
  
"What?" Mimi exclaimed. "Daish, you're beautiful."  
  
"Whatever," Daisha said, rolling her eyes. Mimi sighed.  
  
"You're a tough egg to crack, Daisha," she said.  
  
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"  
  
"It depends," Mimi said, laughing. "You ready to go back up there?"  
  
"I've been ready. YOU'RE the one who keeps jabbering away," Daisha joked, jumping out of the way to avoid Mimi's hand.  
  
Smiling, Mimi followed her sister back upstairs.  
  
***  
  
"So, you like to read?" Mark said, casually, laying his arm on the arm of the couch. He was trying desperately not to make a bad first impression with Jan. Well, technically, counting the time when he banged into her on the sidewalk, this was a second impression.  
  
"Guilty," Jan said, smiling shyly. "I'm a book worm."  
  
"Nothing to be ashamed of. So am I," Mark told her.  
  
Jan smiled warmly, and Mark felt butterflies in his stomach. "Do you want to go to Central Park?" he said, suddenly, standing to his feet.  
  
"Now?" Jan asked, surprised.  
  
"Sure, why not?"  
  
"Do you want to walk there?"  
  
"Sure. Why not do something crazy?" he said, hoping that she wasn't thinking he was a moron at that moment.  
  
She laughed. "Alright. Let me get my coat." She left the room for a moment, and then returned wearing a faded jean jacket. "Ready?" she asked him.  
  
"Ready."  
  
"What's the camera for?" she asked him, as they started walking down the sidewalk. "You don't shoot porn for a living, do you?"  
  
"What, um, no- I," he stammered.  
  
Jan threw back her golden blonde hair and laughed. "I was KIDDING, Mark."  
  
"Oh," he breathed, chuckling with relief.  
  
"I had you going there," she said, winking. "So why DO you have a camera, anyway?"  
  
"Well . . . I'm a film geek as well as a book geek," he admitted. "I like to record things, you know, capture moments? Stupid things, really. I film my friends, or just things on the city that I see. Then I just watch them, and it's like I'm reliving the moment. I feel naked without it." He stopped, and looked up at her. "I bet I sound crazy right now, don't I?"  
  
"No, you don't," she assured him, "I understand. I'm sort of like that to, except I prefer cameras." She reached into her pocketbook and retrieved a disposable camera. "I like to capture moments too," she said, shyly.  
  
"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only one," Mark said, a smile coming over his face. To his surprise, she slipped her gloved hand gently into his, and the two continued walking the rest of the way to the park. 


	6. Strangers, Landlords, Lovers

"So what do you do for a living?" Mark asked Jan, as he threw bread crumbs to the group of pigeons serenading them.  
  
"Nothing too exciting. I have a job putting books away at the library," Jan shrugged. "What about you?"  
  
"Um, I'm not really working at the moment," Mark said, blushing.  
  
"Hey, nothing to be ashamed of. The only reason I started working was because Cary convinced me to get a job."  
  
"Cary?" Mark said, confused.  
  
"My ex," Jan explained. "We broke up about two weeks ago."  
  
"Oh . . . and you feel comfortable dating again?" Mark asked, just to be sure.  
  
"I just want to forget him . . . He made my life a living hell. He hit me once or twice near the end of our relationship."  
  
"He did?" Mark clenched his fists.  
  
She laughed. "Don't worry about it, Mark, he barely scratched me."  
  
Mark shrugged and jiggled his camera up and down on his knee.  
  
"So tell me about yourself. Twenty words or less." she said, leaning against him. Mark blushed as their shoulders made contact.  
  
"Well, I live with my roommate, Roger, on the corner of Avenue B. His girlfriend recently moved in with us too . . . that twenty words yet?"  
  
"I dunno. Wasn't counting," she laughed. Mark smiled.  
  
"What'd Roger think about you coming to see me?" Jan asked, yawning.  
  
"I didn't tell him," Mark admitted.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I can't stand that 'I-Told-You-So' attitude," he shrugged.  
  
Jan laughed again. "I'm laughing with you," she assured him, smiling.  
  
He nodded. "I know," he said, softly.  
  
Jan snuggled closer to him and they were both quiet for a moment. "You want to do something tonight?" she asked, suddenly.  
  
"Sure, I'd love to. What do you want to do?"  
  
"Mmm, I don't know. Meet the in-laws, maybe?" she joked.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Your roommate. And his girlfriend. If you don't mind, that is," She added.  
  
Mark shook his head, "No, it's fine. It's just he doesn't even know I'm with you. It'll give him a shock, but you'd end up meeting him sooner or later, right?" he said, smiling.  
  
"I wish I had someone I could introduce you to. All I've got is an abusive boyfriend," she said, and Mark detected the sarcasm in her voice.  
  
"That's fine. Besides, I'd rather know you rather than your ex."  
  
She smiled. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem."  
  
They stared at each other, shyly for a moment. Mark moved his hand towards hers. When their fingers touched, they both froze, awkwardly, and separated, fixing their eyes on the birds beside the bench they were sitting on.  
  
***  
  
"I'd love to stay and chats with you kiddies, but I'm afraid me and m'lady have some other plans," Jimmy said, winking at Maureen. She smiled at him lightly, and when he turned away she rolled her eyes.  
  
"Noooo problem," Roger said, forgetting to pretend to be polite. Jimmy waved to the unenthusiastic group as he left with Maureen and Joanne.  
  
"Don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out," he muttered under his breath. At that moment, Mimi and Daisha returned to the table.  
  
"Where're the others?" Daisha asked as she sat down.  
  
"They left," Roger replied, twirling his straw around in his glass.  
  
"What a shame," Mimi said, flatly. Her eyes met Roger's, and they both broke out into sheepish smiles.  
  
"You guys done yet?" Collins asked, impatiently.  
  
"Yeah, I'm done. Let's go." Mimi hopped out of her seat and Daisha and Roger did the same.  
  
Collins stood up and reached his hand out to Frankie. "Going up?" he said. She laughed as he pulled her to her feet.  
  
"You might just have a career in being an elevator operator," she teased, tugging at his sleeve playfully.  
  
"What can I say, I'm a man of many talents," he replied.  
  
The five of them made their way down the sidewalk, slowly dawdling along.  
  
"I hope Mark's alright," Roger frowned, as his hand slipped through Mimi's.  
  
"I'm sure he's fine," Mimi assured him, not knowing how much longer she'd be able to keep Mark's whereabouts a secret. Maureen wasn't the only one with a big mouth.  
  
"Shit," Roger said, suddenly, stopping.  
  
"What is it?" Mimi asked, as she banged into him.  
  
"An old friend," he pointed.  
  
Making their way towards them was Benny, with a young girl beside him. Roger realized as they came closer that the girl wasn't Alison.  
  
"Damn it," Mimi murmured.  
  
"Why, hello, there. Long time no see," Benny greeted, with that obnoxious smile of his.  
  
"Yes, we're so fortunate to have run into you," Roger said, sarcastically.  
  
"Nice to see you two. Who's this?" Benny said, looking at Frankie, who had her arm linked through Collins's.  
  
"His girlfriend," Frankie said, before Collins could say anything.  
  
"GIRLfriend?" Benny exclaimed. "Since when are you straight, Collins?"  
  
"Fuck you, Benny," Roger mumbled.  
  
"I see you got a new dog," Collins said to Benny, looking at the girl next to him.  
  
"Well, at least mine's housebroken," Benny sneered, and the girl smacked him on the arm, obviously not amused.  
  
"What happened to Alison?" Roger asked.  
  
"Alison?"  
  
"Your WIFE," Roger said, impatiently.  
  
"Ohhh. We broke up ages ago. There was always something for her to complain and whine about, whether it was a dusty floor, or her accusing me of cheating on her. Which was usually true," he grinned.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes.  
  
"I see you haven't changed, Meemsy," Benny said, reaching out to stroke her shoulder.  
  
"Don't TOUCH me," she snapped, jerking away from him. "And don't call me that."  
  
"Whatever, Meemsy. I see you have a miniature with you. I'll only hope she doesn't take on after you." He looked at Collins. "So, how's life in the straight lane?"  
  
"Benny, would you just shut up?" Roger snapped.  
  
Benny ignored him. "I thought it might be of interest to you, since your previous lover killed my dog, that Alison also got a new dog. Another one of those damned Akitas. It barked all fucking night long. She called it Evita the 2nd."  
  
"Angel killed his dog?" Frankie whispered to Collins, confused.  
  
"I'll explain later," he said, under his breath.  
  
"So, you've told her about Angel? How does it feel to know your loverboy was previously engaged with a Drag Queen?" he asked Collins.  
  
"Don't talk about Angel like that,' Collins growled.  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it. Let's go, Steph. Obviously we're not wanted here."  
  
Steph obeyed, and they walked further down the street together, not looking back.  
  
"Asshole," Collins muttered.  
  
"It's alright, Col," Frankie said, softly.  
  
"Don't let that prick get to you, Collins," Mimi said, still looking after him with a disgusted look on her face. "He's not worth it."  
  
Collins shrugged. "I'd just rather him not refer to Angel as a."  
  
"A Drag Queen?" Roger said, gently.  
  
Collins nodded. "I hate labels. Angel was a PERSON. Like everyone else. Except for pricks like him."  
  
The others nodded, understandingly.  
  
"What a fucker," Daisha mumbled. They looked up, almost forgetting that she was there.  
  
"Daisha," exclaimed Mimi.  
  
"What, shocked? I learned it from you," Daisha replied, smiling sweetly.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes. "Let's hope that's all you learned from me."  
  
Daisha laughed, and Mimi strutted forward, hand in hand with Roger.  
  
"I'm serious!" she called back from over her shoulder, winking at her younger sister.  
  
***  
  
"I'm not sure if anyone is home," Mark said, as he jiggled his key in the lock to his and Roger's apartment door.  
  
"That's fine," Jan assured him. "I could always meet them some other time."  
  
"Maybe," he grunted, shoving the door open by bumping into it forefully.  
  
Jan raised her eyebrows.  
  
"Bad door," he apologized. He walked inside, with Jan right behind him. "So, nothing really out of the ordinary here. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, and the bedrooms," he said, pointing with his finger.  
  
"Well it's nicer than my place," Jan said, following his finger with her eyes. "Can I see the bedroom?" she asked, half-joking.  
  
"Um, it's sorta messy, but sure, if you want," Mark said quickly.  
  
They walked into his room, and Mark nearly stumbled over last night's laundry crumpled in a heap in the doorway.  
  
"The maid's on vacation," he told her.  
  
"It looks like you're managing okay on your own," she said, laughing. She walked over to his bed and sat on it. "Nice sheets," she said, staring. "Thomas the train, right?"  
  
"That's old," Mark said, quickly, shoving his pillow over so it covered the Train Engine's smiling face.  
  
"Nothing to be ashamed of. I still sleep with Winnie the Pooh," she assured him, grinning.  
  
"I thought you said you only had one ex," Mark joked, sitting down beside her.  
  
She shrugged. "Well, you know."  
  
Mark heard a key turning in the lock. "Lucy's home," he said, and the two got up to greet them.  
  
"Hello?" Roger said, confused, as he opened the door. Mimi and Daisha peeked in from behind him.  
  
"Hi Roger- you remember Jan, right?"  
  
"Yeah . . ." Roger said, looking at Mark and raising his eyebrows.  
  
"I know I didn't tell you where I was going, I just decided to get up early, before you two got up."  
  
Roger frowned and turned to Mimi. "I thought you said you talked to Mark before he left?"  
  
Mimi gave a sheepish grin. "Busted."  
  
"You knew he was going out?" Roger asked, frowning.  
  
"I told her not to tell. I didn't want you to say 'I-Told-You-So,'" Mark said, nudging him in the shoulder.  
  
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Jan joked, breaking the tension.  
  
Mark laughed. "Sorry, Jan. This is my roommate Roger, his girlfriend, Mimi, and her sister, Daisha."  
  
"Nice to meet you," she said, smiling, as she shook all of their hands.  
  
"Mark's told us a lot about you," Mimi said, returning the smile.  
  
"He has?" Jan raised her eyebrows. "I've known him for less than twenty- four hours." She turned to him, quizzically.  
  
Mark blushed. "I sort of developed a crush on you after bumping into you that day."  
  
"More like smacking into," Jan laughed.  
  
"Sorry," he said quickly, his face turning redder.  
  
"I'm kidding, Mark. Loosen up a bit." She poked him in the side with her pointer finger.  
  
"I'm liking this girl," Mimi said, laughing.  
  
"Well, I'll be here all week," Jan said, winking. Mimi and Daisha both laughed.  
  
Roger decided to change the subject for a moment. "You missed Maureen's ex, Jimmy," he told Mark.  
  
Mimi groaned. "Can we NOT talk about this now?"  
  
"What was he like?" Mark asked.  
  
"Honestly . . . he was a jerk. Really obnoxious," Roger said.  
  
"Well, Maureen's known to have a weird taste in men . . . AND women," Mark said.  
  
"Who's Maureen?" Jan asked him.  
  
"My ex."  
  
"So you DO have skeletons in the closet," she teased.  
  
Mark shrugged. "We're still friends though."  
  
Jan nodded. She glanced down at her watch, suddenly. "Crap, I've gotta baby- sit in a few minutes."  
  
"Baby-sit?" Mark repeated, amused.  
  
"Hey, I need all the dough I can get," Jan said, haughtily.  
  
"You want me to walk with you?" Mark offered.  
  
"Nah, it's alright. I'm a black-belt. If anyone tries to mess with me, I'll kick their ass," she said, doing a fake Kung Fu imitation.  
  
Mark laughed. "Alright, if you're sure."  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Jan asked, looking hopeful.  
  
Mark nodded his head up and down vigorously, poorly hiding his delightedness. "Yes, sure, of course!"  
  
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then." She quickly blew him a kiss, and left.  
  
"Marky's got a girlfriend," Mimi sang, teasingly.  
  
Mark blushed. "Do not."  
  
"Yes you do," she sang.  
  
"Quiet," he laughed, thrusting his foot out towards her. Mimi dodged his foot, grinning mischievously.  
  
"You're bad," Roger said, wrapping his arms around her waist.  
  
***  
  
"You coming to bed, Roger?" Mimi called to Roger, who was brushing his teeth across the hall. Mark was in his room, and Daisha was asleep on the couch.  
  
"Coming," he called. He rinsed his mouth out and turned out the bathroom light, and padded into the bedroom.  
  
Mimi sat up in bed, reading a magazine. She had a small pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.  
  
"I didn't know you wore glasses," Roger said amused as he slid into bed beside her.  
  
"They're only for reading," she replied, not looking up from the magazine.  
  
"I've never seen them before."  
  
"I don't do a lot of reading," she said, hiding a smile.  
  
"What are you reading?"  
  
"Nothing," she said quickly, pulling her knees in toward her to the magazine was pressed against her chest.  
  
Roger snatched it from her and turned to the cover. "Bridal Weekly?" he said, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"Give that to me," Mimi snapped, yanking it from his hand. "I was just looking at it," she said, quietly.  
  
Roger chewed on the inside of his cheek. "So you wanna get married?" he asked, jokingly.  
  
"I said I was just looking at it," Mimi snapped, her mood suddenly changing for the worst.  
  
"I'm only kidding Meems," he said, resting his head on her stomach.  
  
"I know," she sighed. Roger's head moved up and down slowly from the rise and fall of her breath.  
  
"It's not like it's a totally stupid idea," he said, looking up at her.  
  
She shrugged. "Roger, I can't breath- you're squashing me."  
  
He sat up. "Sorry. All better," he said, lightly patting her stomach. He sighed and lay back against his pillow. "So, what'd you think of Jimmy?" he asked, "He was something, wasn't he?"  
  
"He was something," Mimi said, softly.  
  
"What's wrong?" he frowned, sitting up.  
  
"Nothing, I'm just tired," she replied.  
  
"Tell me," he pretended to whine.  
  
Mimi shook her head.  
  
"Then I'll get it out of you." He reached out and began to tickle her stomach, and then her neck. Mimi yelped, and tried to escape.  
  
"You can't hide anything from me, Meems, I know you too well," he said, laughing.  
  
"Roger, STOP!" she yelled, shoving his hands away.  
  
"Jeez, sorry," he said, folding his arms under his chest. Mimi sat up and hugged her knees, sighing. "Jimmy reminds me of Joel," she finally said.  
  
Roger sat up and slid over beside her. "Why?"  
  
"Just the way he talks- the way he's obnoxious and rude. And also the way he was looking at me." She sounded embarrassed. "He used to look at me like that from across the dinner table, or just random moments like that. It creeped me out, you know what I mean?"  
  
Roger nodded.  
  
"And I just got a bad vibe from him. I just felt really uncomfortable around him. I know I'm probably just being paranoid,"  
  
"You're not," Roger said softly, rubbing her bare shoulders.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Oh well. It's nothing to fuss about, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I'm tired, I'm just gonna conk out right now. Night." She laid back down and closed her eyes.  
  
"Goodnight," Roger whispered. He gazed at her for a moment, and then reached for the lamp on the nightstand and switched it off. 


	7. Wrongly Accused

Maureen wearily opened her eyes to find Jimmy hovering over her, with that obnoxious grin of his.  
  
"What are you doing, Jimmy? What time is it?" Maureen groaned, rolling over. She found the space beside her empty. "Where's Joanne?"  
  
"Up and about, brushing her teeth. Get up, I made breakfast."  
  
"What's the occasion?" she grumbled.  
  
"Me," he replied, cheerfully. As Maureen's vision cleared, she saw he was wearing an apron.  
  
"You're cooking?" she said.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You never cooked when we were together."  
  
"That's because I didn't know how. The cooking channel does wonders, you know."  
  
"Whatever. I'm not hungry," groaned Maureen, pulling her pillow over her head.  
  
"No, no, we'll have none of that. I was kind enough to make the trip here just to see my beloved ex, and this is the thanks I get?" he asked, trying to sound hurt.  
  
"You got it," Maureen's muffled reply came from under the pillow. Suddenly, she felt the mattress moving. "JIMMY! What the fuck are you doing?!"  
  
"Getting you up, my dear," he replied, as he dragged the mattress off of the bed and into the hall.  
  
"Bastard," she snapped, sliding off the mattress.  
  
"The early bird always catches the worm," he replied, and returned to the kitchen.  
  
Joanne exited the bathroom, and stepped into the hallway. "Honey? What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?" she asked, confused.  
  
"I'm not," Maureen grumbled, "Jimmy just decided to be an asshole."  
  
"You two coming?" Jimmy called from the other room.  
  
"Hold your horses," Maureen snapped. She pulled on a bathrobe, and she and Joanne wandered into the kitchen."  
  
"I made pancakes and scrambled eggs. Bon appetite," he said, sitting down to help himself to a stack of pancakes.  
  
Maureen and Joanne each plopped down into a seat and started to eat.  
  
"So I'm guessing you're wondering the real reason why I decided to make breakfast for you?" Jimmy pursued.  
  
"I am," said Maureen. "Why did you?"  
  
"Well . . .," he said, grinning, "Guess who booked you a place for the art gallery?"  
  
Maureen's mouth dropped open. She didn't think he'd actually DO it.  
  
"Honey, did you hear that?! You're gonna have an opening!" Joanne said, excitedly.  
  
Maureen kept gaping at Jimmy. He frowned. "Close your mouth, you're not a codfish. Can I hear a 'Thank you, Jimmy?'"  
  
"Thanks, Jimmy," Maureen managed. "I mean really, thank you. I'm just surprised you were able to get a booking."  
  
"Well, I've got my connections," he shrugged. "Anyway, I took the liberty of calling Mark and Roger myself, and them and the others are coming over here to celebrate."  
  
"You did?" Maureen said, shocked.  
  
"That's what ex boyfriends are for!" he chirped. "We're gonna have a party!"  
  
"Um, Jimmy, this place isn't really the best place to host a party," Joanne said, glancing around her.  
  
"Sure it is. We'll go out, get balloons, crepe paper, the whole enchilada. When I talked to Frankie she said she'd help you two shop for decorations, since apparently she's into designing and all that jazz."  
  
"What do you mean, 'You two?'" asked Maureen, "Aren't you going to help?"  
  
"Nah, I've got things I need to tend to. But I'll be here at seven, along with everyone else. If you'll excuse me, I have to go meet with one of my clients," he said, pushing his chair away from the table as he stood up. He blew them each kisses. "Adios," he said, and grabbed his coat and left.  
  
"Maybe he's not as much as an asshole as I thought he was," Joanne said, thoughtfully, poking at her eggs with her fork.  
  
"Maybe," Maureen shrugged. "This isn't like him, though." She stared down at her plate after taking a bite of her breakfast. "This tastes like shit. Cooking channel, my ass."  
  
"It's bad," Joanne agreed.  
  
"Wanna find an IHOP and then meet Frankie to pick up some stuff?" asked Maureen, as she tossed the paper plates into the trash can."  
  
"I'm all for it," Joanne said.  
  
"Alright," Maureen said, "Let me just get dressed." She left the room, and about twenty minutes later, she returned, and the two of them exited the apartment.  
  
***  
  
"So you're into designing?" Maureen asked Frankie, as she, Frankie and Joanne pushed a shopping cart around 'Ray's Party Goodz.'  
  
"Who told you that?" Frankie asked.  
  
"Jimmy did."  
  
"Oh. Well, yeah, I'm one of those people who like to organize things and plan things," Frankie admitted.  
  
"Would you like to help plan the decorations and food for the opening, then?"  
  
"Sure," Frankie said, sounding surprised. "I'd be honored." She smiled.  
  
"What else do we need for tonight?" Joanne asked. They'd already gotten a bag of multicolored balloons and red crepe paper.  
  
Maureen shrugged. "I have no idea."  
  
"What about Noise Makers?" Frankie suggested.  
  
"Noise Makers?" Joanne said, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Yep. They're not just for New Years Eve, you know. They keep men entertained for hours," she said, laughing.  
  
"Alright," Joanne shrugged. They shoved the cart towards the Birthday Party section and grabbed a handful of cheap plastic toy makers.  
  
When they were done, they approached the cash register, dumping everything out of the cart.  
  
"Balloons, ten dollars," Joanne said, placing them down.  
  
"Noise makers, fifty cents each," Frankie said.  
  
"Sucking the helium out of balloons until we kill ourselves- priceless," said Maureen.  
  
They exited the store, each with a shopping bag in hand.  
  
"So where's Collins right now?" Joanne asked Frankie.  
  
Frankie shrugged. "He's at home. What Benny said yesterday really got him fired up."  
  
"Benny's an asshole," Maureen declared. "Collins shouldn't take anything he says seriously.  
  
Frankie shrugged. "Tell him that. Is Jimmy going to be at the party tonight?"  
  
"Unfortunately," Maureen joked. "Seriously though, I was surprised when I heard he had booked a place for my artwork."  
  
"So was I," said Frankie.  
  
"And then he leaves us to do all the work ourselves while he 'Meets a client,'" Joanne reminded them.  
  
"He's an odd one," Maureen shrugged. "Maybe he's turning over a new leaf."  
  
Joanne smirked.  
  
"Well then again, maybe not," Maureen laughed.  
  
***  
  
"Daisha, what are you doing?" Mimi asked, stepping into her and Roger's bedroom. Daisha was trying on one of Mimi's belts. Mimi also saw that she was wearing her earrings.  
  
"Oh, um, hi," Daisha said, blushing. "I thought you went to get some groceries."  
  
"Mark and Roger went to get it themselves," said Mimi. "What are you doing with my stuff on?"  
  
"I'm just trying shit on," Daisha said, embarrassed. "I wanted to see how it felt to be you."  
  
"Honey, you don't wanna know what it's like to be me," Mimi laughed. "Trust me."  
  
"You've got the perfect life," Daisha argued, "You've got a boyfriend who's crazy about you, and friends that are like family, no Joel to boss you around . . ."  
  
"My life is NOT perfect," Mimi said. "I've got a lot of shit going on. You wouldn't want to be me."  
  
"Whatever," Daisha sighed, slipping the belt off and tossing it back into the closet. "You win."  
  
All of a sudden, the phone rang. "I'll be right back," Mimi said, walking into the other room to answer the phone.  
  
"Hello?" she said, as she picked it up.  
  
"Who is this?" the voice asked. Mimi thought the voice sounded familiar, but she still wasn't sure who it was.  
  
"Who's THIS?" she asked, frowning.  
  
"Don't play games with me, Mimi," the voice growled. Mimi's heart sank as she recognized the voice on the other line. It was Joel.  
  
"What do you want?" she whispered.  
  
"Ah, see, you remember. A girl can't forget her old Pops, hey?"  
  
Mimi was silent.  
  
"Where's Daisha, Mimi? I'm not an idiot. She's not at Isabella's place, so she must be at yours."  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Mimi said, weakly.  
  
"I said I don't want to play games with you," he growled. "Send her home. Or there'll be trouble. For BOTH of you."  
  
"I'd never send her back home to you," Mimi snapped, her voice rising, "You abuse her and hit on her!"  
  
"What the hell has that bitch been telling you?" Joel shouted.  
  
"She's told me enough that I know I won't be sending her home anytime soon," Mimi said, her fists clenching.  
  
"Listen, Mimi, don't make this harder for yourself, or there's gonna be consequences," he threatened.  
  
"Don't threaten me- you're not my father," Mimi snapped.  
  
"Listen, you little Smart Ass!" Joel was screaming, "Unless you want a real problem, you send her home, you hear me? Unless you want some real trouble. Understand?"  
  
Mimi hung up the phone, trembling. At that moment, Mark and Roger returned with their groceries.  
  
"Hey Meems," Roger said, placing his paper bag down on a chair. "What's wrong?" he asked, when he saw the look on her face.  
  
"Joel called," she said, softly. "He wants Daisha to come home."  
  
"What'd you tell him?"  
  
"What do you think I told him, Roger? I told him no."  
  
"And what'd he say?"  
  
"He called me a Smart Ass and started threatening me that I'd pay if I didn't send her home," she shivered. "I'm scared, Roger."  
  
"It's alright," he soothed, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her gently. "He doesn't know where you live, right? Otherwise he wouldn't have bothered to call."  
  
"I guess so," Mimi said, but still looked unconvinced. "Look, don't tell Daisha what happened, okay? I don't want her to get freaked out."  
  
"Alright," Roger promised, "I won't."  
  
"Thanks," Mimi mumbled. "You guys get the food ready. I'm gonna call Isabella." She took the cordless phone with her into the living room.  
  
"Isabella? It's Mimi?" she said, when Isabella picked up the phone.  
  
"Hey, Mimi. I haven't spoken to you in a while," Isabella said, softly. "I thought you were really mad at me."  
  
"I still am, sort of," said Mimi, "But that's not what's bothering me right now. Joel called."  
  
"He did . . ." Isabella said, slowly.  
  
"He wants Daisha to come home. I said no, and he started threatening me."  
  
"That bastard," Isabella sighed. "He's all talk, Mimi. He's harmless."  
  
"Harmless?" Mimi exclaimed, "Was it harmless when he hit me, or shoved me, or swung me into the wall?!"  
  
Isabella was quiet for a moment. "He did that?" she said, softly.  
  
"Yes," Mimi said, exasperated.  
  
"You never told me that."  
  
"I was too ashamed to tell anyone then," Mimi said.  
  
"You should have told me, Mimi," Isabella said. She was quiet for another moment. "He really did that?"  
  
"You know that scar I have, above my hip?" Mimi said.  
  
"Yeah. You said you got it from falling off your bike."  
  
"Joel swung me into a table and my hip met the corner of it."  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mimi," Isabella said, sounding teary, "I had no idea."  
  
"It's alright," Mimi said, softly, "I should have told you." She paused. "Listen, Maureen got a booking at an Art Gallery, and we're celebrating at her and Joanne's apartment. You wanna come?"  
  
"Okay," Isabella said, quietly.  
  
"I'll talk to you later then?"  
  
"Yes. Bye," Isabella said, and slowly hung up.  
  
"You okay, Meems?" Roger said, peeking his head into the room.  
  
"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile.  
  
Daisha entered and plopped down on the couch beside Mimi. "Who was on the phone?" she asked, leaning against her.  
  
"Wrong number," Mimi said, her eyes meeting with Roger's.  
  
"I unpacked all the food," Mark announced, as he came into the living room. "We've just got to carry it all over to Mo's and we'll be all set."  
  
"Is Jan coming too?" Roger asked.  
  
"Yup. She hasn't met them yet, but she would sooner or later anyway," he said, smiling.  
  
Roger couldn't help but smile also. He hadn't seen Mark this happy in a long time.  
  
***  
  
"Look what I've got," Maureen said, shaking a bottle of wine in front of Roger's face as he entered with Mimi, Mark, Jan and Daisha.  
  
"Oooh- bubbly" he said, smiling.  
  
"That them?" Jimmy called from the couch.  
  
Roger rolled his eyes. "I see the beast is here, then?"  
  
"Be nice to him," Maureen hissed, "He got me the booking, didn't he?"  
  
Roger shrugged, and took Mimi's hand, and the two of them went inside hand in hand, followed by Daisha.  
  
"Maureen, this is Jan," Mark said, and the two shook hands.  
  
"Marky, you're dating again?" Maureen said, looking overjoyed.  
  
"Yup," he replied, and he and Jan gazed at each other, blushing.  
  
"Aw, this IS a celebration! Pookie, come here" she called.  
  
"What is it?" Joanne asked, walking over to them.  
  
"Marky's got a girlfriend," Maureen squealed, pointing at Jan. "Jan, this is my girlfriend, Joanne."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Jan said, smiling. They shook hands.  
  
"Come on, guys, let's get the party started!" Collins called from the living room. They all settled into the living room.  
  
"Gimme that, Maureen," Collins said, reaching for the bottle.  
  
"Testy" she joked, handing him the bottle.  
  
"Mmm," he said, as he sipped. "Heaven." He offered the bottle to Daisha, who was sitting beside him. "Want some?"  
  
"Collins, she's fifteen!" Frankie exclaimed.  
  
"Oops, sorry," Collins said, grinning sheepishly.  
  
"Collins, Frankie, this is my girlfriend, Jan," Mark said. Using the term 'My Girlfriend' filled him with an odd pleasurable sensation.  
  
"Mark's told us a lot about you," Frankie said, smiling.  
  
"So I hear," Jan laughed. "It's nice to meet you two."  
  
"Do you guys like what Frankie did with the apartment?" Collins asked, pointing to the balloons and crepe paper hanging from the walls and ceiling.  
  
"Brilliant," said Roger, and the others nodded in agreement.  
  
"Just wait until we bring out the Noise Makers," Frankie said, winking.  
  
"Oooh, Noise Makers!" Collins joked. They both kissed lightly.  
  
"Are they cute or what?" Mimi whispered to Roger. He smiled and nodded.  
  
"I'd like to make a toast," Jimmy said, standing up, retrieving the bottle from Collins. "To Maureen, who's brilliant art work is finally going to become public for all eyes to see. And to me- for getting her the booking," he said, smugly. Everyone rolled their eyes.  
  
"Cheers!"  
  
"Cheers!" they chorused, and drank, all except Daisha, who was content with her sparkled apple juice.  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"That'll be Isabella," said Mimi, standing up. "I'll get it."  
  
A moment later, she returned with Isabella behind her. "Hi, all," she greeted.  
  
"That's Jan, Mark's girlfriend, and that's Jimmy," Mimi said, pointing.  
  
"Who made this all possible, if I might add," Jimmy cut in.  
  
"Whatever," Mimi mumbled. She sat back down beside Roger, and Isabella sat down next to her.  
  
"Is he the one you were telling me about?" she whispered to Mimi.  
  
"Yup," she sighed.  
  
Isabella smirked. "Go figure."  
  
"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for," Jimmy said, still standing. He pulled an old dirty sheet off the canvas to reveal 'Reality Check.' The others gasped in amazement.  
  
"Maureen- you did THAT?" Mark exclaimed.  
  
"What? Surprised I had talent?" Maureen joked.  
  
"No, that's just . . .wow," he said.  
  
Jan laughed. "Too good for words." Mark nodded in agreement.  
  
"That's really great, Maureen," Roger said, stepping closer to get a better look.  
  
"There's pictures of all of you guys in there," Joanne spoke up.  
  
"There is? Oh wait- there's me and Mimi," Roger said, smiling.  
  
"Lemme see," she said, walking over to the canvas.  
  
"We're here," he pointed.  
  
Mimi found it, and smiled. "This is really amazing, Maureen," she said, approvingly.  
  
"Thanks," Maureen beamed.  
  
Frankie and Joanne brought out the Noise Makers, and Roger, Mark, and Collins (who were already drunk), resorted to making noises with them obnoxiously in the otheroom.  
  
"Men," Maureen said, shaking her head. "How can you stand them?" she asked Frankie, Jan and Mimi.  
  
"Oh, it's hard," Jan left.  
  
"Very," added Frankie.  
  
"I'm taking pleasure in the single life," Isabella laughed. "As is Daisha."  
  
Daisha stuck out her tongue.  
  
"You alright, Meems?" Joanne asked Mimi, who'd been pretty quiet the whole time.  
  
"I'm fine," Mimi said. She was still thinking about the phone call she had received earlier.  
  
"You sure, Mimi?" Isabella asked, concerned.  
  
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go out on the fire escape and get some fresh air." She got up and left the room.  
  
Maureen shrugged, and the group went back to their conversation.  
  
***  
  
Mimi stood on the fire escape, staring at the horizon.  
  
"Nice, huh?"  
  
She turned. Jimmy had made his way outside.  
  
"Oh, it's you," she mumbled.  
  
"Don't sound to happy to see me," he laughed.  
  
She ignored him. She wrapped her arms around her, shivering lightly from the cold.  
  
"You want me to make you warmer?" he asked, placing his hands on her hips.  
  
"Get off me!" she snapped, moving away.  
  
"Aw, so it's gonna be like that, huh?" Jimmy pressed.  
  
Mimi huffed and turned away.  
  
"What's with the attitude?" Jimmy complained, "What did I ever do to you?"  
  
"You're not my type," Mimi said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Not your type, huh? Maureen told me you used to be a dancer at the Cat Scratch Club. So I would assume you danced half-nude in front of men all the time. Were they ALL 'Not your type?'"  
  
Mimi jerked her head up, angrily. "Fuck you!" she yelled.  
  
"Well that's what I'm trying to do now, hon. Can't you help me out here?"  
  
"You're disgusting," she spat, shaking her head. She stepped forward, preparing to go back inside. Suddenly, Jimmy's hand shot out and grasped both of her wrists tightly, and he pressed his mouth against hers, forcing his tongue in. Horrified, Mimi squirmed and tried to pull herself away from him.  
  
"Meems, you out here?" Roger's voice called, and his footsteps became louder as he walked towards the fire escape.  
  
Panicked, Mimi tried to wrench herself away from Jimmy. At that moment, Roger appeared.  
  
"There you are . . ." he stopped.  
  
Finally, Mimi pulled herself away from Jimmy, gasping or breath. "Roger," she gasped, expecting him to rush over there and beat the shit out of Jimmy.  
  
"Save it," Roger growled. "You too deserve each other." With that, he turned, furiously, and stormed out of the apartment. Mimi winced as she heard the front door slam violently.  
  
"Oops," said Jimmy. 


	8. Home is Where the Heart Is

"Karma is a bitch," Jimmy sighed.  
  
Mimi whipped around. "Bastard," she hissed. She turned sharply and hurriedly got off the fire escape.  
  
"Mimi, what happened?" Isabella exclaimed, as Mimi entered the room. She had seen Roger rush out of the apartment, furiously. Mimi was shaking.  
  
Maureen also saw that something was wrong. "Is everything alright?" she asked, frowning. "Did you and Roger get into a fight?"  
  
Mimi slowly shook her head. "I'm gonna go home," she said, quietly. She looked like she was about to cry.  
  
"Alright, you go ahead," Isabella said, softly. "I'll take Daisha home with me tonight."  
  
Mimi nodded, and grabbed her coat and left.  
  
"Did they have a fight?" Jan said, frowning.  
  
Maureen bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I didn't hear them fighting out there."  
  
Suddenly, Jimmy poked his head in from outside.  
  
"I didn't know HE was out there with her," Maureen said, softly.  
  
Jimmy started to join Mark and Collins in the other room, but Maureen stopped him.  
  
"What happened outside?" she demanded.  
  
Jimmy blinked. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean why are Roger and Mimi so upset? What did you say to them?"  
  
"I didn't say anything at all," Jimmy said, innocently. "Mimi was giving me lip, and then Roger came outside. They had an argument and left, I guess."  
  
"I didn't hear anyone arguing out there," spoke up Frankie, eyeing Jimmy suspiciously.  
  
"Oh, and all of a sudden you have acute hearing senses?" he snapped.  
  
"I didn't hear anything either," Daisha suddenly spoke up, angrily.  
  
"Neither did I," said Isabella.  
  
"Or me," Jan chimed in.  
  
Jimmy groaned. "Look, if you guys are going to accuse me of things, I'll just be on my way. Mo, if you don't appreciate me booking you a place, that's fine with me. I'll just be heading out, then."  
  
"I appreciate you booking the place. I DON'T appreciate it when you mess with my friends," Maureen fired.  
  
Jimmy shrugged. "Tough crowd." He gathered his belongings and his wine glass, without bothering to return it and left.  
  
Maureen groaned and settled onto the couch beside Joanne. "He's such an asshole sometimes," she moaned.  
  
"Amen," agreed Joanne. She paused, and picked at her cuticles. "I wonder what DID happen out there, if they didn't get into an argument."  
  
"I guess we'll have to be gilled in later," Maureen sighed.  
  
Just then, Mark and Collins returned to the living room, both with a Noise Maker in hand.  
  
"Well, it looks like you boys had fun," Frankie laughed.  
  
Mark nodded. "These things are great!" he looked around the room, confused. "Where's Roger and Mimi?"  
  
"They had to leave early," Maureen said, flatly.  
  
"Oh . . . did Jimmy leave too?"  
  
"He had to go as well."  
  
"Well, there's no use crying over spilt milk," Mark replied. He rattled his Noise Maker again, before collapsing on the couch beside Jan, who giggled.  
  
Collins stumbled over to Frankie and sat beside her.  
  
"Baby, are you drunk?" Frankie asked him, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Me? Nooo . . ." he mumbled.  
  
Frankie laughed. "I can tell, Col. C'mon, let's go home before you get any worse."  
  
Collins shrugged, and obeyed. They both left, hand in hand.  
  
"I think I should go with Daisha now," Isabella said, after they'd gone. "Besides," she teased, "It's past her bed time."  
  
Daisha stuck her tongue out at Isabella.  
  
"Alright," Maureen couldn't help but laugh. "I'll see you tomorrow. See you later, hon," she said, waving at Daisha. Daisha waved back, and then the two of them left as well.  
  
"And then there were four," Jan declared, snuggling against Mark's shoulder.  
  
"What?" Mark said, when he caught Maureen looking at him, "You want me to leave too?"  
  
"Now, whatever made you think that?" Maureen joked.  
  
Mark shrugged. "Well, actually, I DO think it's time we spent some time to ourselves, don't you, Jan?" he poked her in the side.  
  
She giggled. "Whatever floats your boat, Marky."  
  
Perking up to his pet name, Mark swooped Jan off the couch and started to carry her out the door, as she protested and squealed. He turned as he was about to exit. "I'll see you two later, alright?"  
  
"Later," Maureen and Joanne said at the same time, waving him off. They could hear him and Jan giggling down the hall.  
  
"Some party," Maureen sighed, getting up to rinse out the wine glasses.  
  
"It WAS some party. Besides that little conflict we had with Jimmy, I'd say it went pretty well," Joanne insisted, getting up to help her.  
  
Maureen shrugged and walked into the kitchen, letting the glasses drop carelessly into the sink. She turned on the faucet and turned to Joanne.  
  
"What do you think he did?"  
  
"Honestly, I don't know," Joanne said. "Knowing him, it could be anything."  
  
"Yeah. You've only known him for two days, and already you know what a jerk he is," Maureen sighed, turning off the faucet.  
  
Joanne shrugged. "I'm good at reading people."  
  
"Well, of course you are. You're dating me, aren't you?" Maureen teased.  
  
"Only you, Honey Bear," Joanne said, smiling.  
  
They kissed, silently.  
  
Maureen yawned. "You ready for bed?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask."  
  
***  
  
"Roger, open this door," Mimi shouted, pounding on Roger's bedroom door furiously.  
  
"Why, so you can fuck me over some more?" he snapped from the other side of the door. "I thought you said you didn't like him."  
  
"I don't," Mimi moaned, almost wailing with the anguish she felt. "Please, just listen."  
  
"I'm listening," he said, coldly.  
  
"I was out on the fire escape alone, and then all of a sudden Jimmy came outside as well. He started pulling some moves on me . . ."  
  
Roger's fists clenched.  
  
".and I told him to fuck off. I was about to go back outside, but then he grabbed me and kissed me. That was HIM kissing me, Roger, not me kissing him."  
  
Roger was silent.  
  
"Please," Mimi begged, unable to help the tears that were slowly trickling down her cheeks. "I'm telling the truth." Helplessly, she slid to the floor, leaning her head against the door, and she rapped her fist against the door weakly.  
  
Slowly, the knob turned, revealing a sorry-looking Roger.  
  
"Mimi . . ." he said softly, when he saw that she was crying. He knelt down beside her and gathered her into his arms, squeezing gently.  
  
"I couldn't stop him from doing it," Mimi hiccupped, "It all happened so fast."  
  
"I believe you," Roger said, quietly. He pushed her brunette curls behind her ear and pulled her head gently toward him.  
  
"I think I knew there was a logic explanation for what happened, even when I first saw you two," he said, running his fingers through her hair. "But then this one side of me just felt betrayed. I was angry at YOU, even though it was Jimmy's fault." He sighed, resting his head lightly on hers. "I'll kill that bastard."  
  
"I hate him," Mimi mumbled. "The things he said to me were so . . .DISGUSTING."  
  
"I'm sorry," Roger whispered.  
  
"It's not your fault. You couldn't help it."  
  
"I know, but I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I was just so furious that I didn't take the time to process through my head that you HATE him, and that there must've been an explanation for why he was . . . kissing you." Roger stumbled over the last part.  
  
"It's alright," Mimi said, softly.  
  
"So we're cool now?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Roger sighed with relief, and cupped her chin gently, and leaned down to kiss her.  
  
Mimi smiled and closed her eyes.  
  
"You tired?" he asked, as he began to stand up,  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I'm tired too. All those Noise Makers gave me a headache, anyway."  
  
Mimi laughed again, and Roger was relieved to hear the sound of her laughter.  
  
"Where's Mark?" she asked, suddenly.  
  
"Best bet, with Jan."  
  
Mimi smiled. "I'm glad he found someone."  
  
"So am I. And I'll say, it's about time."  
  
Mimi nodded, and yawned. "Let's go to bed before I fall asleep right here in your lap."  
  
"I wouldn't mind that," Roger joked, but reached a hand out to pull her off the floor.  
  
Roger stripped off his shirt and pants and slid into a pair of long flannel paints, and Mimi pulled on a pair of Roger's boxer shorts and one of his old T-Shirts with the words 'CBGB's' on it.  
  
"You know, me and the guys are having a gig there soon," Roger said, pointing at her shirt as he slid into bed.  
  
"I know," she said, sliding in beside him. She took his hand and brought it to her lips. "I'm about ready to conk out right now."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Night, Roger."  
  
"Night.  
  
***  
  
"Mark, are you sure you're not as drunk as Collins, if not more?" Jan joked.  
  
They were in Jan's bedroom. Mark had become a little frisky on the walk to Jan's apartment.  
  
They lay on her bed, Mark had his shirt off, and Jan had changed into a pale yellow nightgown.  
  
"Nice PJ's," he commented.  
  
"Don't make fun of my Jammie's," she replied.  
  
"I'm not. They bring out the color in your hair."  
  
Jan laughed and laid back among the pillows.  
  
Mark rolled over and placed his hand on her bare leg. "The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout," he said, stupidly, walking his finger down her thigh.  
  
"Stop! That tickles!" she exclaimed, pushing his hand away.  
  
Mark groaned and rolled over onto his stomach. "I think I might have drank too much," his muffled voice came from the pillow.  
  
"Lucky for you I was here."  
  
"Yup. I had a designated walker to take me home."  
  
"This is MY home, silly," Jan laughed.  
  
"Home is where the heart is," Mark replied, reaching out awkwardly for her hand.  
  
Jan smiled. "Welcome home then, Mark." 


	9. Olives and Saltine Crackers

Mark slowly opened his eyes the next morning and stretched, groaning. He turned his head to the side and saw Jan on the floor, fully clothed, tying her shoelaces.  
  
"Where you going?" he asked, groggily.  
  
"I have to baby-sit this kid downstairs in a little while. Remember I told you I had to leave to baby-sit?"  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"Well, this morning her mom called again. They're going to be out all afternoon, and can't bring her with them."  
  
"Oh" he said, disappointed. He had wanted to spend some more time with her.  
  
Jan tugged at her shoelace for a moment, and then looked up again. "You wanna come with me?"  
  
Mark blinked. "Huh?"  
  
"Do you want to come with me when I go down to baby-sit her?"  
  
"Oh, um sure- I don't know if I'm really good with kids, though."  
  
"You'll never know until you try," she told him.  
  
He shrugged. "Okay, I guess I'll give it a shot."  
  
Jan smiled and leaned onto the bed, pecking him on the cheek. "Great! Get dressed, we've gotta leave in about fifteen minutes."  
  
"Fifteen?" Mark groaned.  
  
"C'mon, Marky- UP!" she said, bouncing up and down on the bed.  
  
"Arggh. Okay, I'm up!" he grunted, pulling on he clothes he'd worn the day before which were scattered on the floor.  
  
"Didn't you wear that last night?"  
  
"What do you want me to do- scare the kid half do death in YOUR clothes?" he smirked.  
  
"Nah, I don't think it'd scare her," Jan said, thoughtfully. "In fact, I think you'd look pretty hot."  
  
He tossed a shoe at her, and she ducked it, laughing.  
  
***  
  
"Alright, Jan, we'll be back around five," Mrs. Manuel said, clasping her husband's hand.  
  
"Alright, Mrs. Manuel. We're gonna have fun, aren't we?" she said, elbowing Mark in the ribs.  
  
"Yup," he agreed.  
  
A small curly red-headed girl peered up at Mark from behind her mother.  
  
"Hi," he said, smiling at her.  
  
She scowled, and tugged at her mother's skirt. "Mommy, I wanna go with YOU," she whined.  
  
Mrs. Manuel crouched down to her daughter's level. "I know you want to, Pheebs, but Daddy and I can't take you with us. I'm sorry." She kissed her on the nose and stood up again. "The numbers are on the refrigerator, Jan."  
  
"I know," Jan said.  
  
"Great. You ready, John?"  
  
"Ready."  
  
"Alright. See you three in a couple of hours." She blew a kiss to Pheobe, and they both left.  
  
"Pheobe, this is my friend, Mark," Jan said lightly, motioning towards him.  
  
Pheobe looked up at Mark skeptically. "Hi," she said.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"What do you want to do, Pheebs?" Jan asked, taking the five year old's small hand in hers.  
  
Pheobe brightened up. "Can we play house?"  
  
***  
  
"Roger, don't do anything stupid," Mimi warned, as she struggled to keep up with Roger as they walked towards Maureen and Joanne's apartment.  
  
"Don't worry," he growled, walking faster. "I'll murder the bastard."  
  
"Violence isn't the answer, Rodge," she reminded him, running to keep up with him.  
  
"Yeah, we'll see," was his reply.  
  
They reached the front door, and Roger knocked.  
  
Joanne opened the door, looking surprised to see them.  
  
"Hi, guys," she said. She raised her eyebrows when she saw the look on Roger's face. "What's going on?"  
  
"Is Jimmy here?"  
  
"Yeah, he's in the living room with Maureen. They're looking over which paintings to put in the show . . ." She wasn't able to finish, because Roger pushed past her, and walked into the apartment.  
  
Mimi gave Joanne a look of apology, and hurried after Roger.  
  
"Jimmy?" Roger barked, as he came into the living room.  
  
Jimmy looked startled to see him, and soon the surprise turned to nervousness. "Oh, hi Roger," he said quickly, his hands glued to the arm of the couch.  
  
"Hey, Roger. What are you doing here so early?" Maureen asked, confused.  
  
At this point, Mimi and Joanne had entered the room, watching intently to see what would happen.  
  
"I've got to talk to Jimmy," he said, through gritted teeth.  
  
"I don't think we have anything to talk about, Roger," Jimmy said, standing to his feet. "Whatever the problem is, I'm sure I can help though."  
  
Enraged, Roger rushed up to Jimmy cuffing him in the face.  
  
"Roger!" Maureen shrieked.  
  
Roger clubbed Jimmy in the nose, causing him to fall back onto the couch. Groaning, Jimmy kicked out his leg and caught Roger's shin, causing Roger to punch him once again.  
  
"Stop!" Mimi cried, pulling Roger away from Jimmy, who was nursing a bloody nose.  
  
"Anyone have a Kleenex?" he grumbled.  
  
"Roger, what the hell are you doing?" Maureen exclaimed, handing Jimmy a tissue.  
  
"Ask him what HE was doing kissing my girlfriend," Roger snapped, glaring at Jimmy menacingly.  
  
"Is THAT what happened last night?" Joanne asked from the doorway.  
  
Mimi slowly nodded.  
  
"She was leading me on," Jimmy protested, pressing the tissue against his nose.  
  
"I was not, you dumb fuck!" Mimi shouted, looking like she wanted to hit Jimmy herself.  
  
"You were," insisted Jimmy, "Looking at me provocatively and showing me thigh."  
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Mimi yelled, her face red with anger.  
  
"Pole-dancing on the fire escape and everything," Jimmy continued.  
  
Finally, Mimi snapped and rushed at Jimmy preparing to scratch his eyes out with her long nails, but Maureen grabbed her just before she leapt, and pulled her away.  
  
"You know what they say about those dancers . . . ," Jimmy continued on.  
  
Maureen shook her head. He just didn't know when to stop.  
  
"You'd better shut up," Roger warned.  
  
".once a tease, always a tease."  
  
"I'll fucking castrate you!" Roger shouted, and Maureen struggled to keep both Roger AND Mimi from kicking the shit out of Jimmy.  
  
"I DON'T want blood on this carpet!" she shouted, shoving them away. She then turned to Jimmy. "What the hell is wrong with you?"  
  
"I didn't to anything," he protested.  
  
Maureen rolled her eyes. "Jimmy, I KNOW you. Besides, Mimi wouldn't lie."  
  
"Look, I'm not going to stay here and take this," he declared, standing to his feet. Making sure he was as far away from Roger and Mimi as possible, he walked around the couch and reached the doorway. "Mo, when you're ready to work on plans for the gallery, give me a call." He gave Roger a look, and then closed the door loudly behind him.  
  
"Asshole," Maureen muttered.  
  
"If I had a nickel for everytime I heard you say that about him," Joanne said, shaking her head.  
  
"Christ, Maureen, how could you STAND him?" Mimi groaned.  
  
Maureen shrugged. "He was different back then. And I was too stupid to see through him."  
  
"Are you still going to go along with the opening?" Roger asked, steaming off a little.  
  
Maureen nodded. "Yup, I'm meeting Frankie at Collins's to talk to her about the food and decorations and all that jazz."  
  
"Well, at last the bastard's good for something," Roger said, bitterly.  
  
"Yeah," Maureen said, sighing. "By the way, Mimi, did Daisha ever make it home last night?"  
  
"She went home with Isabella."  
  
"Oh."  
  
There was an awkward silence.  
  
"Well, I've gotta head over to Collins's apartment. Frankie's expecting me." She kissed Joanne quickly on the cheek. "I'll see you guys later, alright?"  
  
"Later," Roger said, quietly.  
  
Maureen left, closing the door quietly behind her.  
  
"We should get going," Mimi said, softly.  
  
Roger took her hand in his. "Okay."  
  
"See you later, Joanne."  
  
Joanne smiled. "Bye, guys."  
  
"That bastard better not show his face around me anytime soon," Roger told Mimi, as they left.  
  
*** "Mmmm! Man, these steamed carrots are good, aren't they, Mark?" Jan asked Mark, desperately trying to encourage Pheobe to eat.  
  
"They're yucky," she said, glaring at her plate defiantly.  
  
"They're not," Jan insisted.  
  
"YOU eat them, then," Pheobe snapped.  
  
"Alright. Mark, show Pheobe how much you love steamed carrots."  
  
Mark shot her a 'Why ME?' look, and Jan looked at him, pleadingly.  
  
Mark sighed and took a fork, scooping a portion of steamed carrots into his mouth.  
  
"MMMMMM' he exaggerated, holding out the thumbs-up sign. When Pheobe had her head turned, Mark spat the food out onto the kitchen floor. Jan shot him a look, but quickly plastered on her phony smile when Pheobe looked back at them.  
  
"Can't we do something else?" she whined.  
  
Jan sighed. "Fine, but if you get hungry, don't come crying to me."  
  
"I won't," Pheobe said. She paused, and looked at Mark, and then looked back at Jan. "Do you have any babies?"  
  
"Babies?" Mark sputtered.  
  
Jan tried not to laugh, putting on a small smile instead. "No, we don't have any babies," she told Pheobe.  
  
"But will you?"  
  
"I don't know," Jan said, thoughtfully, winking at Mark. "Perhaps."  
  
"My teacher's having a baby. Her stomach is BIG. Like- this big," she held out her arms to show them, stretching them as far as she could apart."  
  
"That's pretty big," Jan agreed.  
  
"She looks like Humpty Dumpty."  
  
"That's not very nice."  
  
"Well, it's true," Pheobe insisted.  
  
"I'm sure it is. I remember when my mom was pregnant with my brother."  
  
"Did you see it?" Pheobe asked, her eyes widening.  
  
"See what?"  
  
"Did you see him being born? Mommy said babies come out from your belly button, but it's WAY too small," Pheobe declared, as if it was the stupidest thing she'd ever heard in the world.  
  
"It's a tight squeeze," Jan agreed.  
  
"Well, I don't want any babies."  
  
"Why not?" Mark asked, who had been sitting in wonderment for most of the conversation.  
  
"'Cause I'm gonna be a movie star, that's why."  
  
"Why can't you have babies then," Mark asked her.  
  
"Movie people can't have babies," Pheobe scoffed, as if talking to someone younger than her.  
  
"They can," Mark argued, "If they're only shot from their midsection up, or maybe played the role of a pregnant woman, or left the Hollywood scene temporarily until the baby was born . . ."  
  
Pheobe gave Jan a confused look.  
  
"Mark, you're debating with a five year old," Jan whispered, nudging him.  
  
"Sorry," he whispered back. "I told you I wasn't great with kids."  
  
"Well, when you guys have a baby, bring it over here so I can see," Pheobe demanded.  
  
"We'll do just that," Jan promised, winking at Mark.  
  
"Good." Pheobe sat back in her seat, satisfied. "Who wants to play Tea Party?"  
  
***  
  
"Anyone want anything to drink?" Collins offered, coming up behind Frankie and placing his hands on her shoulders.  
  
"Baby, don't you think you had enough to drink last night?" Frankie giggled.  
  
"You haven't seen anything yet. Last night was just a practice round," Collins joked.  
  
Frankie sighed, shaking her head.  
  
"I'll have a glass of water," Maureen offered.  
  
"My pleasure," Collins said, bowing, and left for the kitchen.  
  
"He's great," Frankie laughed, as she scribbled notes onto Maureen's checklist.  
  
"He is. You two are lucky to have each other," Maureen said, looking over Frankie's shoulder. "What've you got so far?"  
  
"Well, for food I think there should be little h'ordeurves or something. Nothing to fancy, even old fashioned Pigs-in-a-Blanket will do."  
  
Maureen nodded.  
  
"We could do something fancy with cut up vegetables, cheese and crackers. Make it look like we're doing a lot more work than we really are, you know?"  
  
"So is every thing about not doing any work?" Maureen teased.  
  
"Nah. We just can't afford the fancy stuff," Frankie grinned.  
  
Maureen shrugged, and pulled her knees to her chest. "What else?"  
  
"I was thinking a cake- you know, one of those photo cakes? And we'd have your collage on it. Of course, we'd have to bring it out AFTER the guests see the actual thing."  
  
Maureen nodded again.  
  
"For decorations, probably colors that go with the collage, since that's really your main piece. What about purple and black balloons, and crepe paper?"  
  
"Noise Makers too?" Maureen joked.  
  
"Sure, if they come in black and purple. Anyway, what do you think of this?"  
  
"It's great, Frankie. We're gonna need help with the food, but other than that, it's perfect. Thanks for helping me!" she gave Frankie a tight squeeze.  
  
"No problem," Frankie said, as Collins came into the room with water for Maureen, and a glass of wine for himself.  
  
"Hon, don't you think you've had enough wine?"  
  
Collins nodded his head, a serious look on his face. "There is no such thing as too much wine, my love."  
  
***  
  
"Sorry you had to see that back there," Roger told Mimi, stuffing an olive into his mouth. They had racked the kitchen for something to eat, and found they were low on groceries. There WERE, however, olives, saltines, and coke.  
  
"Don't worry about it," Mimi said, reaching an olive. "I couldn't have done it better myself.  
  
Roger grinned widely, showing he the olive pit between his teeth.  
  
"Roger, that's disgusting." She moved her lips and spit hers out halfway across the room. It smacked into the wall and fell back down to the floor.  
  
"You say I'M disgusting," he said, amazed.  
  
"You are," she said, laughing.  
  
"Am not." He tossed an olive at Mimi, and it embedded itself in her curls.  
  
"Roger," she wined, fishing it out. She picked up another olive and tossed it at him. It bounced off his nose and hit the floor.  
  
Soon, they were having a food fight, tossing olives at each other, and crumbling crackers into each others hair.  
  
Mimi crawled on top of Roger and sat on top of his chest, about to poor the bottle of coke on his head.  
  
"Anyone home?" They heard Isabella calling.  
  
"How'd she get in?" Roger frowned, oblivious to the fact that he was about to be drowned in soda.  
  
"I gave Daisha a spare key," Mimi told him.  
  
"There you guys are," Isabella said, with Daisha behind her. "Umm, are we interrupting something?" she asked, looking at the mess.  
  
"No. In fact, you two can join if you like," Roger said, rolling out from under Mimi, who fell back onto her butt, giggling.  
  
"No thanks," Daisha said, looking at them both in fascination. "Who's gonna clean this mess?"  
  
"We can lick it clean," Mimi giggled, tossing another olive at Roger.  
  
"Mimi!" Isabella exclaimed, "You want to be a bad influence on Daisha?"  
  
Roger shrugged. "We'll figure it out." He crushed a saltine cracker above Mimi's head, who shrieked and smacked him on the arm.  
  
"C'mon, Daisha," Isabella sighed, "I've got a feeling it'll be a while before they clean up this mess." 


	10. Deja Vu

"I'm never going to get these crumbs out of my hair," Mimi sighed, standing up.  
  
"It looks like you've got massive dandruff," Daisha said, staring at her.  
  
Mimi frowned. "Thanks."  
  
"I think dandruff is sexy," Roger said, smiling at her.  
  
Mimi looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You would."  
  
"Of course," he replied, wrapping his arms around her face and pulling himself to his feet.  
  
"I'm going to go take a shower. I'm covered in olive juice," Mimi giggled.  
  
"Do you need me to assist you?" he teased.  
  
Daisha's face turned bright red, and Isabella shot Roger a furious look.  
  
"Sorry," he said, sheepishly.  
  
"I'll be out in about twenty minutes," Mimi told them, leaving the room.  
  
"Have fun," Roger called after her, and she turned around and jokingly, gave him the finger.  
  
"You guys are so immature," Isabella declared.  
  
Roger shrugged. "Sue me."  
  
"I wish." She placed a hand on Daisha's shoulder. "Daish, go in the other room and watch TV or something, I need to talk to Roger."  
  
"Good luck with the TV. It blew a few days ago."  
  
"Oh, well, um, go find a magazine, then. You know how to read, right?" Isabella joked.  
  
"YES, I know how to read," Daisha said, grouchily. She went into the other room, leaving Isabella and Roger alone.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked her, bending down to pick up a few stray olives scattering the floor.  
  
"Joel called my place."  
  
Roger stopped and bit his lip. "What did he say?"  
  
"Daisha was the one who answered the phone."  
  
"Shit," Roger muttered.  
  
"So now's he's certain that she's here, and he wants her to come home. Mimi told me how he treats Daisha, and how she used to treat her, and obviously I'm not letting her go back there."  
  
Roger nodded, understandingly.  
  
"He doesn't know the address of this place, but he can find out."  
  
"Shit," Roger repeated.  
  
"I don't know what he's going to do. He's nuts, and I know that if and when he comes, something bad will happen," Isabella said, chewing on her lower lip, something that Mimi did when she was nervous.  
  
"Are you going to tell Mimi?" Roger asked her.  
  
"Yeah, when she gets out of the shower. But I figured I'd tell you first. Mimi's really afraid of Joel, Roger."  
  
"I know, she told me," Roger sighed. "Is Daisha alright?"  
  
"As soon as she realized who it was on the phone, she practically shoved it into my hand and walked out of the room. I don't know if she knows how serious the situation could turn out to be, but she seems fine right now."  
  
"She was acting pretty normal," Roger agreed. "But then again, I've known her for less than a week, so I don't really know what normal is for her."  
  
"She's pretty much acting like her usual moody self," Isabella said. "Just a little more jumpy, you know?"  
  
Roger nodded again.  
  
"So I think she should stay here for now. I'll just rent a motel room for now, because if Joel comes for a surprise visit, and I'm there and Daisha's not, there's gonna be a problem."  
  
"Alright," Roger said, "The couch is a pull-out. It's sort of broken, but maybe Collins or someone can help me fix it. Do you wanna bring her stuff over here?"  
  
"I already did," Isabella admitted, turning a little red. "I packed a bag with her clothes, toiletries, just the stuff she needs. It's in a duffel bag downstairs in my car."  
  
"You want me to go get it?" Roger offered.  
  
"Nah, that's alright. I'll go down right now and grab it."  
  
"Is it alright if I tell Mimi if she gets out of the shower before you get back up here?"  
  
"Of course. She has a right to know. He's her stepfather too. Unfortunately," she added. "I'll be back in ten minutes."  
  
"Okay," Roger said, and watched her leave. A few minutes later, Mimi came out of the shower in a royal purple bathrobe drying her hair.  
  
"I think I missed few crumbs," she said, shaking her had and making her wild curls go crazy.  
  
"I think you've got more important things to worry about," he said, and told her what Isabella had told him.  
  
Mimi's face paled, and she fidgeted nervously with the tie on her robe.  
  
"Isabella said that Daisha would stay here, and she'd get a motel room for now until this whole thing blows over. She's downstairs getting Daisha's stuff out of her car."  
  
"Okay," Mimi said, almost whispering.  
  
"Are you alright?" Roger asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"I'm fine," she whispered, leaning against him. "I'm just freaked out."  
  
"I don't blame you," Roger said, pushing her wet curls away from her face. "I'd be scared too. It'll be alright though. I promise."  
  
Mimi forced a smile, but still didn't look convinced.  
  
"I'm back," Isabella called, walking into the room, Daisha's bag in her hand. She set it down on the kitchen table.  
  
"You told her?" she asked, when she saw Mimi.  
  
"Yup. I just did," Roger said, rubbing Mimi's arm slowly.  
  
"You alright, Meems?" Isabella asked, concerned.  
  
"I'm scared," Mimi admitted.  
  
"Don't worry, Chica," Isabella soothed, slipping her hand through her sister's.  
  
"You don't know that," Mimi said, softly.  
  
Isabella didn't answer.  
  
At that moment, Daisha walked in.  
  
"I'm starved. Is there any food left? Or is it all on the floor?"  
  
Mimi forced a small smile. "I think that there's some stuff in the freezer."  
  
Daisha walked over to the freezer, carefully stepping over the crushed crackers and smushed olives. She opened the freezer and faked enthusiasm. "OOOH, frozen waffles! My FAVORITE."  
  
"Take it or leave it," Mimi snapped, getting fed up with her sister's moodiness.  
  
"Jeez, sorry, I was kidding, Meems," Daisha said, taking a defrosted waffle out of the box.  
  
"It's okay. I'm just not in a joking mood," Mimi grumbled.  
  
Daisha stuffed the waffle into the toaster. "Whatever. It's fine."  
  
"So you're gonna stay at Mimi's for now, alright Daish?"  
  
"Yeah," Daisha sighed. "I feel like a stray dog that no one wants."  
  
"Honey, that's not the case at all!" Isabella exclaimed.  
  
Daisha shrugged.  
  
"Here," Isabella handed her her bag.  
  
"I guess I'll go unpack then," Daisha sighed.  
  
"There's some extra room in the closet by the doorway if you need it," Mimi told her.  
  
"Alright. Thanks." She picked up the bag and silently walked out of the kitchen.  
  
"Teenagers," Isabella sighed, leaning against the refrigerator.  
  
"Yeah, they're a pain," Roger agreed, nudging Mimi in the ribs.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You were nineteen just a year ago, remember? And I had to put up with you," Roger said, pretending to groan.  
  
"Shut up, I had a harder time handling YOU," Mimi laughed.  
  
Roger stuck out his tongue.  
  
Isabella rolled her eyes.  
  
"Kids," she smirked, leaving to help Daisha unpack.  
  
***  
  
"Well, THAT was an experience," Mark sighed, shutting the door behind him.  
  
"I think you two got along pretty well," Jan told him, sliding off her coat.  
  
Mark shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a man of many talents."  
  
"That's for sure," Jan laughed. She glanced at her watch. "Come with me to get my mail?"  
  
"Why should I?" Mark asked, teasingly.  
  
"I'll give you a massage later," she offered, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
"A back massage?"  
  
"A massage," she repeated.  
  
"Kinky," Mark said, shaking his head.  
  
Jan giggled. "C'mon, my mail's not gonna walk up here itself!"  
  
The two of them went downstairs into the lobby to grab Jan's mail, and then hurried back upstairs.  
  
"Bills, bills, junk mail, coupons," she recited, tossing it onto the table. "Oh, I got a letter from my parents."  
  
"The old man and woman, huh?" Mark said.  
  
"Yup." Jan tore the envelope open, scanning the letter carefully. She rolled her eyes and tossed it aside.  
  
"What is it?" Mark asked, picking the letter back up and handing it to her.  
  
"Same old, same old. Asking me if I would 'Please come home for Christmas, sweetie, we'd love to have you, we miss you.'"  
  
"What's so wrong with that?" Mark asked. "I mean, if it was my parents, I'd sort of HAVE to go. My mom leaves like fifty messages on my answering machine each day."  
  
"I don't know," Jan sighed. "My parents and I were never close. They always seemed to prefer my sister over me."  
  
"And that changed?"  
  
"Yeah. Ever since my sister died, they won't leave me alone. It's not like I don't appreciate it or anything, but it gets annoying."  
  
Mark laughed. "Trust me, I know what you mean." He paused then "Your sister died?"  
  
"Yeah." Jan picked at her nails.  
  
"I'm sorry," Mark said, softly.  
  
"It's alright. We were never really close, even though she was only a year younger. But she was like Mommy and Daddy's little girl, you know?"  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"Anyway, I'm sorry I'm piling this all on you. You probably couldn't care less."  
  
"I do," he protested.  
  
Jan shrugged.  
  
"Do you have any pictures of you and your family?" he asked, trying to show her that he WAS interested.  
  
"Yeah, I've got an album in my bedroom," she said, brightening up. "I'll be right back."  
  
She left for a moment, and Mark sat still, twiddling his fingers.  
  
"Back," she declared, sliding into the chair. She had in her hands a large velvet maroon picture album, with gold lining on the sides. It looked like it was about to fall apart.  
  
"It's old," Jan said, sheepishly.  
  
"I noticed," Mark said, looking at it.  
  
"So, here we go," she said, with a sudden force of enthusiasm.  
  
She flipped to the first page.  
  
"Oh, jeez. Those are my parents on their anniversary."  
  
"They look just like you," Mark said, scrutinizing the photos carefully. "Especially your mom."  
  
"God, don't say that," Jan groaned.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"It's okay. These pictures fill up another four pages," she warned him, as she flipped through pictures of her parents dancing, holding hands, gazing at each other, and then one of her dad singing karaoke to her mother. Mark raised his eyebrows at that one.  
  
"He was drunk," Jan said, embarrassed.  
  
"Yeah, I figured. They're cute."  
  
Jan shot him another look.  
  
"Sorry," he said, sheepishly.  
  
Jan turned the next page.  
  
"That's my mom when she was pregnant with me," she pointed, a small smile coming over her face. "And there's the aftermath," she pointed to a picture of herself as a newborn.  
  
Mark leaned forward in his chair, intrigued.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have any pictures of the birth," she joked.  
  
Mark's face reddened and he sat back in his chair.  
  
"There's me when I was a toddler . . . and there's pictures of my mom when she was pregnant with my sister." She flipped to the next page. "There's us when we were two. Don't laugh, I know I had chubby cheeks."  
  
"All babies do," Mark said, "It's part of their charm. Besides, you were a cute baby."  
  
"Thanks," Jan said, blushing.  
  
She flipped through some more pictures of she and her sister when they were younger, and then some more of her parents.  
  
"These last ones are more recent," she said, turning to the last page.  
  
"Those are my parents back at the house I lived in before I moved here," she pointed. "And that's the four of us in front of the house."  
  
Mark's eyes wandered over the picture, looking at the old fashioned farmhouse-looking house, surrounded by a faded white fence. He looked at Jan's parents, who had their arms around each other, then at Jan, sitting on the fence next to them. Then he saw her sister, kneeling on the ground. His jaw dropped. Now he knew why Jan's sister had looked so familiar in the baby pictures.  
  
"What's wrong?" Jan asked, frowning.  
  
Mark didn't answer. He stopped gaping, but he stared at Jan's sister, mesmerized.  
  
He'd thought that April was an only child. 


	11. Breaking Point

Mark stared at the photo, mesmerized.  
  
"April," he said her name, softly.  
  
Jan raised her eyebrows.  
  
"How'd you know her name?" she asked, frowning.  
  
"I used to know her," Mark said, quietly.  
  
"That so? Well," Jan laughed, "Small world, huh?" She closed the album and looked back up at him. "Mark, you okay?"  
  
"I knew her VERY well," Mark said, fidgeting uncomfortably.  
  
"How'd you know her?" Jan asked, wrapping her arms around herself.  
  
Mark mumbled something.  
  
"What?" she poked him with her finger.  
  
"She was Roger's girlfriend," he muttered, staring at the surface of the wooden table.  
  
Jan was silent for a moment. "That's THE Roger?" she exclaimed.  
  
"THE Roger?"  
  
"April used to talk about him the few times that we talked on the phone." She shivered. "That's just too weird."  
  
"Yeah," Mark said, not really knowing what to say.  
  
"Oh, God, so he's THE Roger," she said again, shaking her head.  
  
"What is it?" he asked her.  
  
"April was still dating him when she died, right?"  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"Well when I got the call from her parents that she'd killed herself- they said it was because of her boyfriend, that he was pressuring her and she couldn't bare to deal with It anymore.  
  
"That's ALL they told you?" Mark asked, quietly.  
  
"Yes . . . God, I don't know how I'll be able to be around him now, knowing that he was the reason . . ."  
  
"That's NOT the way it happened," Mark interrupted, angrily. "Did you parents tell you about a suicide note?"  
  
"No . . ."  
  
"It said, "Roger- we've got AIDS," Mark knew what was on the note, and he also could remember what it had looked like. He was the one who had found April.  
  
April shook her head. "That can't be."  
  
"So you think I'm lying to you?" Mark snapped, angry that she had tried to put the blame on Roger.  
  
"I don't think you're lying, Mark, that's just not like April."  
  
Mark sighed. "It's the truth. Jan, I was the one who found her in the bathroom."  
  
Jan bit her lip. "You were?" she whispered, her voice teary.  
  
Mark slowly nodded his head.  
  
"Oh, God," she murmured, the tears starting to fall.  
  
Mark slid out of his seat and knelt beside her chair. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her toward him gently, trying to soothe her with words, but not knowing quite what to say.  
  
"My parents never told me she was positive," Jan whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "But then again, they never tell me anything," she said, bitterly. She looked at Mark. "How could they have kept that from me?"  
  
"I don't know," Mark said, helplessly.  
  
"They took the advantage of the fact that April and I weren't close at all. They could have said that she had married a rock star and flew with him in his big jet and were never seen again- I wouldn't have any choice but to believe it, because I knew nothing about what her life was like, I knew nothing about HER," Jan said, through gritted teeth.  
  
"You two weren't the only siblings who weren't close," Mark said, trying to help. "Me and my sister probably wouldn't even recognize each other if we walked past each other on the sidewalk. She calls on the holidays, but that's all."  
  
"Did your sister kill herself?" Jan snapped.  
  
"I'm just trying to help," Mark said, quietly.  
  
Jan sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I'm just really confused right now." She stared at the wall. "Mark, I'd just like to be alone right now."  
  
"Alone . . ." Mark repeated, caught off guard.  
  
"Yes. I'll call you later, but I just need some time to myself right now, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Mark said, almost robotically. "So I'll see you soon?" he asked, before he opened the door to leave.  
  
Jan, who was picking at a loose nail on her chair, didn't answer.  
  
"Jan?"  
  
"What? Oh, yes, I'll call you sometime." She looked away, pretending to be studying something on the floor.  
  
"Well, alright . . . call me if you need anything."  
  
She nodded.  
  
Mark bit his lip, and then opened the door and left.  
  
***  
  
"Hello, stranger," Roger joked, as Mark entered the apartment. "How's it been in Jan-Land? You've been there for quite a while."  
  
"It was fine," Mark mumbled, shoving his coat into the closet.  
  
"What's wrong? Did you get into a fight or something?"  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
"Tell me," Roger pushed.  
  
Mark shook his head. "It's nothing, Roger."  
  
"Bullshit," Roger declared, with a flicker in his eye. "I've known you since kindergarten, Mark, I know when something's up."  
  
Mark shrugged.  
  
"Tell me, or I'll sic the strawberries on you!" Mark was allergic to strawberries, as well as many other things.  
  
"Piss off, Roger, it's not important," Mark grumbled, trying to walk past him.  
  
Roger held onto him, refusing to let go. "Tell me," he demanded, not liking to be left out of things.  
  
"I don't think it's anything you'd like to know, Roger."  
  
"Who cares? TELL ME," he pretended to whine. Jokingly, he reached his arm around and put Mark in a headlock.  
  
"STOP IT, ROGER!" Mark yelled, trying to escape.  
  
"Not until you tell me," Roger replied, holding him down easily.  
  
"You really wanna know?" Mark yelled, his face red with anger.  
  
"Would you be in this position if I didn't?" Roger asked, hiding a smile.  
  
"It's just something Jan told me about her family, nothing important!"  
  
"What'd she tell you?"  
  
"NOTHING!"  
  
"Come ON, Mark, I'm not a moron! Whatever it is, I can deal."  
  
"April was Jan's sister, Roger. Deal with THAT," Mark snapped, and before Roger could say anything, he wrenched away from Roger as he rushed into his room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, baby," Mimi said to Roger as he walked into the bedroom.  
  
Roger didn't answer, and sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes.  
  
"Nice to see you too," Mimi frowned.  
  
"Hi," Roger grumbled.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's GREAT," he growled.  
  
"What happened?" Mimi crawled over beside him. "Did you and Mark fight?"  
  
"Kind of."  
  
Mimi looked at him questioningly.  
  
"Just something he found out about April."  
  
"Oh." Mimi was silent for a moment, but then couldn't contain her curiosity. "And?"  
  
"And nothing."  
  
"C'mon Roger," she pushed, tugging at his sleeve. "What did he tell you?"  
  
"Jan and April knew each other."  
  
Mimi was silent for a moment. She was always uneasy when Roger talked about April. "Oh?" she said.  
  
"They were sisters."  
  
Mimi ran her finger along the quilt covering the bed. "How long has Jan been keeping that from Mark?" she asked, quietly.  
  
"How the hell would I know, Mimi?" he snapped, in sudden anger.  
  
Mimi was taken back. "Jeez, SORRY, Roger. I was just asking a question."  
  
"Yeah, well I just found out that my best friend is dating my ex girlfriend's sister?" Roger shot back.  
  
"Well what's the big deal?" Mimi asked, confused. "It's April's sister, not April herself."  
  
"Yeah, but it's APRIL'S sister!" Roger exploded.  
  
"April's gone, Roger," Mimi said, quietly. "That part of your life is over now. Why can't you accept that?"  
  
"Because she always comes back to fucking haunt me!" he yelled, startling Mimi with the sudden raise of volume in his voice.  
  
"Calm down," she said, softly, resting her hand gently on his shoulder. Roger shrugged her off.  
  
"No matter what I do, April's always on my mind. When I'm in this apartment I always think, April used to sleep in this bed, April used to sit in this chair, April used to fucking shit in this toilet! I started thinking that ever since I first met Jan. I thought she looked familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Now I know, and it's like she's controlling me from the grave. She . . ."  
  
"April's DEAD, Roger," Mimi shouted, interrupting him. "And she's been dead for nearly two years! I KNOW you feel guilty about what happened, but it's NOT your fault! Whenever you're in a bad mood, it always leads back to April, always April. Why can't you accept the fact that she's gone, Roger? She's not coming back!"  
  
The fury in her eyes faded away for a moment.  
  
"Why do you have to live in the past? This is NOW. You have me, and other people who care about you. You can't just keep letting April haunt you!"  
  
Roger's fists clenched in anger. "Now YOU listen!" he yelled, pointing his finger at Mimi, just inches away from her face. "Don't EVER talk about April. You don't know shit about April. So don't fucking talk like you knew her, understand?"  
  
"How do you know I didn't know April?" Mimi screamed back at him.  
  
"Because for all I know, while me and April were together, you were stripping for some old men down at the Cat Scratch Club," he yelled.  
  
"Fuck you," she snarled.  
  
"I don't need this," Roger snapped, standing to his feet. "Like hell you knew April."  
  
"I DID know her!" Mimi shouted. "She came to one of the Life Support meetings. And just from that one time, I saw that she was way worse off than I ever was. She told us she'd do just about ANYTHING to get her hands on a stash. Bark like a dog, strip, prostitute herself, WHATEVER. THAT'S how you ended up with AIDS, Roger!" she screamed, standing to her feet.  
  
Her last sentence echoed in Roger's head, 'THAT'S how you got AIDS.'  
  
Without warning, Roger came at her quickly, grabbing her wrist in his hand, tightly. "Don't EVER talk about April like that. EVER!" he yelled into her face. Mimi closed her eyes, trembling.  
  
"Do you understand?" he repeated, tightening his grip.  
  
"Roger, please, calm down," she pleaded, her anger suddenly disappearing, replaced by fright.  
  
"Like hell I'll calm down," he growled. "And like hell I'll calm down here." Without warning, he shoved Mimi away, harder than he had intended to.  
  
Mimi fell back, knocking her head sharply on the floor.  
  
Roger stopped for a moment, horrified with what he had just done, but the angered side of him took over, and he turned sharply and rushed out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly behind him. The echoing sound of the door slamming was the last thing Mimi heard before she slid into unconsciousness.  
  
a/n: Okay, I didn't intend to have any violence going on in this chapter- Em0 made me do it! Seriously though, I know I made Roger seem like an asshole here, but things ARE going to get better, please do not lose interest in this story on account of my twisted little mind! 


	12. Speak of the Devil

Panting, Roger rushed out of the apartment, nearly stumbling down the steps, and ran crazily down the sidewalk until he turned into an alley and leaned against the wall, panting heavily. Only then the reality of what had just happened hit him.  
  
He'd gotten angry.  
  
He'd yelled. They'd both yelled.  
  
He pushed her. She fell.  
  
She would be fine. She only hit her head.  
  
But what if she wasn't? Roger thought, miserably. He hadn't stayed long enough to see if she was okay.  
  
"Fuck," he shouted to no one in particular, slamming his fist into the wall. His knuckles stung, and he put them to his mouth, tasting a few faint drops of blood.  
  
"What the hell am I going to do?" he asked aloud, grimacing in pain from his swollen hand.  
  
He couldn't turn to Maureen. She would kick his ass the moment after he explained to her what happened.  
  
He couldn't turn to Mark. Mark was having problems of his own with Jan. Plus, he was pretty annoyed with Roger anyway. And once he saw what Roger had done, he'd be even more so.  
  
Collins? Roger considered going to see his more understanding friend. Collins WAS considerably understanding when it came to coming to him with problems.  
  
And Roger had a lot of problems right now.  
  
Sighing, he turned back towards the direction of his building, hoping Collins would understand.  
  
***  
  
"Did someone just come in?" Isabella called from the kitchen, after Roger had slammed the door behind him.  
  
Daisha, who had watched him rush out of the apartment from the living room, frowned, confused. "No. Roger just left."  
  
"He left?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I don't know," Daisha admitted. She got up from the couch, and flicked off the TV, which was almost ready to send to the junkyard anyway.  
  
Cautiously, she came up to the door of the bedroom and knocked gently.  
  
"Mimi?" she called. "Are you alright?"  
  
There was no answer.  
  
"Did you and Roger have a fight?"  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"Mimi, please?" Daisha pleaded.  
  
Finally, not satisfied with the silent treatment she was receiving, Daisha slowly opened the door, and stepped inside. Her eyes lingered on the bed, and slowly drifted toward the other side of the room, where Mimi lay crumpled on the floor, her eyes closed.  
  
"MIMI!" Daisha yelped, rushing over to her. Not quite knowing what to do, she shook her sister's shoulder roughly, hoping to wake her up. When she got no reaction, she yelled for Isabella.  
  
"What is it?" Isabella asked as she walked into the room. She stopped when she saw Mimi, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh my God . . ."  
  
"She's dead," Daisha moaned, trying to shake Mimi awake.  
  
"She's not dead," Isabella snapped, as she knelt down beside Mimi. She took her wrist and felt for a pulse. She found one, and it was strong and steady.  
  
"She's just unconscious," Isabella said softly, pushing a stray curl from Mimi's face.  
  
"Did she fall?" Daisha asked, quietly.  
  
"I don't know." She paused for a moment. "Daisha, get Mark."  
  
Daisha hopped up and ran into Mark's room, and then quickly returned with him.  
  
"What the hell happened?" he exclaimed, as he rushed into the room.  
  
Isabella shook her head, cradling Mimi's head in her lap. "We don't know."  
  
"Roger rushed out of the apartment, and I figured they'd had a fight, so I came in here and found her," Daisha said, her voice more of a squeak from nervousness.  
  
"Here," Mark said gently, sliding his arms underneath Mimi as he lifted her off the ground. Her head dangled, and her brunette curls fell away from her face.  
  
"Support her head!" Isabella snapped.  
  
"Sorry," Mark said, quickly.  
  
The three of them walked into the living room, where he laid her down gently on the couch.  
  
"What do we do?" Daisha asked, as Mark slid a pillow underneath her head.  
  
"I don't know. Wait until she wakes up, I guess. I'm not really much of a doctor."  
  
"What if she doesn't wake up?"  
  
"Daisha, SHUT UP!" Isabella barked at her. "She's fine, she'll be fine." She hoped it was true.  
  
"But what if she's not?" Daisha asked, a lump in her throat.  
  
"She will be," Isabella repeated.  
  
"But you don't know that. You're not a doctor."  
  
"She WILL," Isabella insisted.  
  
Mark, who wasn't paying any attention to the two of them, suddenly saw Mimi leg twitch, and her eyelids fluttered.  
  
"I think she's waking up," he whispered, silencing the two of them.  
  
Mimi's eyes open slowly, and she gazed up at the three of them, groggily.  
  
"Hi," she said, flatly, surprised to see three heads hovering over her.  
  
"Mimi, what happened?" Isabella asked, relieved that she was awake. "Did you fall?"  
  
"I'm alright," she groaned, struggling to pull herself up to a sitting position. She grimaced as her head began to throb, and she lay back down, moaning.  
  
"Do you remember if you hit your head?" Mark asked her. "You might have a concussion."  
  
"I think so," Mimi said, quietly, feeling the back of her head with her hand.  
  
"What happened?" Isabella asked, softly, taking her hand in hers and patting it lightly.  
  
"We . . . Roger and I . . . we had a fight."  
  
"Is that why he rushed out?" Daisha asked.  
  
Mimi shrugged, and then slowly nodded.  
  
"But how did you fall down?" Daisha asked, impatiently.  
  
Mimi looked stuck. "After he left . . . I tripped and hit my head," she said, lamely. It was the best excuse she could think of at the moment.  
  
"Did he push you?" Mark said, softly.  
  
Mimi's head shot up. "What?" she snapped.  
  
"Did he push you?" Mark repeated.  
  
"No, OF COURSE he didn't push me!" Mimi said, a little too quickly. "Look, I'm fine." Shakily, she gripped the arm of the couch and pushed herself to a standing position. Her knees weakened and began to tremble, and Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the couch so she wouldn't fall down again.  
  
"Honey, if you hit your head, you should just rest a while," Isabella said, softly.  
  
"She's right," Mark agreed. "Isabella, could you go downstairs and ask Collins for an icepack? We've run fresh out here."  
  
"Alright," Isabella said, standing to her feet. "Daish, come with me."  
  
Daisha got up and followed Isabella out the door.  
  
Once they were gone, Mark turned back to Mimi. "What really happened?" he asked, gently.  
  
Mimi sighed, and let out a slow, shaky breath. "You know how you told him about Jan being April's sister, right?" she asked him.  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"Well, I knew something was bothering, and I got it out of him. And well, we just started to argue," she said, a lump forming in her throat.  
  
Mark nodded again. "I heard you two yelling."  
  
"Sorry," Mimi said, quietly.  
  
"It's fine," Mark said. "Go on."  
  
"I said something that rubbed Roger the wrong way . . . and he pushed me away. He didn't mean for me to get hurt," she said quickly, desperate to cover up for Roger.  
  
Mark sighed. "I was afraid he'd do something crazy."  
  
"He didn't mean it, Mark," Mimi said, weakly. She bit her lip, concentrating on not crying. "So he left?"  
  
"Apparently. Daisha said he ran out."  
  
"He didn't check to see if I was alright," Mimi said softly, hot tears forming under her eyelids.  
  
"It's alright, Mimi," Mark said, trying to soothe her. He hugged her, awkwardly. Mimi pressed her face against his shoulder, crying quietly.  
  
After a while, she pulled away, wiping her swollen red eyes on her sleeve. "I got your shirt wet," she said, lamely. "Sorry."  
  
"It'll dry," Mark said.  
  
Mimi sniffled, new tears replacing the old ones. "Sorry, Mark," she said, trying to smile through her tears.  
  
Mark nodded. "It's alright."  
  
He glanced at the clock. "Isabella and Daisha should be back by now."  
  
"They'll be back," Mimi said, softly.  
  
"I know."  
  
They both sat in an awkward silence, and they waited.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Roger, you didn't tell me you were coming over!" Collins greeted Roger as he opened the door.  
  
A small white terrier came bounding out of nowhere, yapping furiously at Roger's heels.  
  
"What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, trying to push it away with his foot.  
  
"THAT is Pepper," Frankie said, stepping into the room. She scooped the dog into her arms, cooing to it softly.  
  
"That was quick," Roger said, glancing at the dog. "It looks more like you than it does Frankie, Collins."  
  
Collins laughed, as he closed the door behind him. "Since we decided Frankie's moving in, she brought Pepper in with her. We're waiting for her furniture to get here."  
  
"I'm happy for you, Collins," Roger said softly, as Frankie stepped out of the room, Pepper bundled up in her arms.  
  
"Thanks," Collins said, smiling. "So, what brings you here?"  
  
"I figured you were the only one who I'd be able to talk to."  
  
"Talk to?"  
  
"I sort of fucked things up with Mark and Mimi upstairs."  
  
"How do you mean?"  
  
Sighing, Roger told Collins what had happened.  
  
Collins's eyes widened. "You didn't check to see if she was okay?"  
  
"My head was too fucked up, I couldn't think," Roger said, lamely.  
  
Collins sighed. "Well, let's get up there and make sure, okay?"  
  
"Alright," Roger said in a small voice, afraid of facing the others. And especially Mimi. God, he hoped she was okay. He chewed his lip nervously, a habit he'd caught from Mimi.  
  
"Collins? You in there?" Isabella's voice was yelling from the other side of the door. "Mimi's hurt! We need an icepack! Open the door!"  
  
Collins gave Roger a quizzical look. "Company?"  
  
Roger didn't answer.  
  
Collins opened the door, revealing a breathless Isabella and Daisha.  
  
"Collins, we need to borrow an icepack or something from you, I think Mimi has a concussion, she and Roger . . ." her voice trailed off as she saw Roger standing next to Collins.  
  
"Oh," she said, flatly. "Speak of the devil."  
  
a/n: Mari- We need to start our duet! I've got the dried rice and the olives and the condoms! -Coming in chapters to come- Mimi and Isabella help Daisha with her driving skills, the art gallery . . . and what DID happen to Joel, anyway? Hmmm. 


	13. Okay to Cry

"Hi, Isabella," Collins finally said, breaking the silence.  
  
"Hi," said Isabella, eyeing Roger. He stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, his head bent down.  
  
"Aren't you curious to see if she's alright or not?" she demanded.  
  
Roger looked up at her guiltily. "I didn't mean for it to happen," he said, softly.  
  
Isabella sighed. "I KNOW you didn't mean to hurt her, but why the hell didn't you stay to make sure she was okay? She was out for about fifteen minutes after we heard you leave, and finally Daisha went in there and found her."  
  
"I'm sorry," Roger said, weakly, his voice nearly a whisper.  
  
"Let's finish this later," Collins interrupted them. He turned to Isabella. "You said you need an icepack?"  
  
"Yes. And Mark said you used to be a doctor?"  
  
"Not a REAL doctor," Collins admitted. "But sort of . . . I was a candy- stripper."  
  
"Sort of?" Isabella smirked, and Collins shrugged sheepishly.  
  
"What's going on?" Frankie asked as she entered the room, Pepper trailing behind her.  
  
"Nothing to worry about, baby," Collins said, putting his arm around her. "We just have a sick patient to attend to."  
  
"Is everything alright?" she asked, frowning.  
  
"Hopefully, but we won't know until we get up there," Isabella reminded him, tugging at his shirt.  
  
"Okay, sorry. I'll be back in a second, Franny." It was his new nickname for her. "You and Pepper stay here, okay?"  
  
"Alright." She picked up the dog and shook his paw, trying to make him wave. "Say bye-bye to Daddy, Pepper."  
  
Collins laughed. He made a quick detour in the kitchen to grab an icepack from the freezer.  
  
"You coming?" he asked Roger, as he and Isabella and Daisha got ready to leave.  
  
"I guess so," he said, quietly.  
  
"Let's go," Daisha whined, and the three of them followed her upstairs.  
  
***  
  
When they entered the apartment, they found Mark sitting beside Mimi on the couch. Mimi was lying down, her eyes closed.  
  
"How is she?" Isabella asked, settling beside Mark.  
  
"Okay, I think. Physically, at least." He raised his eyebrows when he saw Roger there. "Well, she's going to be THRILLED to see you," he mumbled.  
  
"Mimi? You awake?" Isabella asked, gently, nudging Mimi.  
  
Mimi opened her eyes slowly. A weak smile came across her face. "Hey."  
  
"Hey, sweetie. How's your head?"  
  
Mimi shrugged, still lying down.  
  
"Well, we got an icepack for your head, and we brought Collins here too. He's- sort of a doctor," Isabella told her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.  
  
Mimi smiled. "Thanks, Iz."  
  
"That's not all she brought," Daisha muttered, as Roger came into the room.  
  
Mimi saw him, and said nothing.  
  
"Mimi," he said, softly.  
  
Mimi turned to Isabella, ignoring Roger. "Can I have that icepack?" she asked. "My head's killing me."  
  
"Sure," Isabella said, as Collins handed it to her. She handed it to Mimi.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Isabella looked at Roger, and saw the pained look on his face. "Ummm . . . you two wanna be alone?"  
  
Roger nodded. Mimi only shrugged.  
  
"Alright. Just holler if you need anything, Hon," she said, bending down to kiss Mimi on the forehead. She stood to her feet, and one by one, the others left the room.  
  
Roger watched them go, and then sat down beside Mimi on the couch, cautiously.  
  
"Hey," he said, awkwardly.  
  
Mimi glared at him.  
  
"I'm sorry about what happened," he said, softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."  
  
"It wasn't just me hitting my head that hurt me, Roger," she said, quietly.  
  
Roger sighed. "I know. Whenever someone brings up April, I always get a little . . . you know . . ."  
  
"Crazy?" she interrupted him.  
  
"Yes," he admitted.  
  
They were both silent for a moment.  
  
"Did you really know April?" he asked.  
  
Mimi nodded. "She came to Life Support. Only once."  
  
"Were those things you said about her true?"  
  
Slowly, Mimi nodded.  
  
Roger sighed. "Why the hell do I fuck everyone's lives up? She wasn't like that when I first met her. April had her whole life ahead of her. She was young. I ruined all of that." To his annoyance, he realized that his throat felt as if it had a lump in it, and his mouth felt all dried and cracked like it would if he was about to start crying.  
  
"You didn't ruin anything for her," Mimi whispered to him. "If anything, you made things better for her."  
  
Roger looked at her. "What do you mean?"  
  
Mimi leaned back on her elbows and struggled to sit up, despite her throbbing head.  
  
"She told us about how the year had been going so far," she began, fiddling with a loose piece of thread on one of the pillows. "She said her parents never gave her any privacy, and they were always looking over her shoulder. So finally she got a place of her own here. She told us then she met someone, and she moved in with him, but after a while he started to hit her, and pretty soon they broke up. She moved back to her old place, and later he trashed the place, taking a lot of valuable things."  
  
Rogers fists clenched in anger, hearing this.  
  
"She said that she was pretty much suicidal, and she said that she'd kill herself if she only had the guts." She looked up at Roger. "And then she said she met someone knew. Someone much more charming than her previous boyfriend, and more handsome. He wasn't as aggressive, and on their first couple of dates they went to clubs so she could see him play with his band, and pretty soon she moved in with him and his roommate."  
  
"Me," Roger said, surprised.  
  
Mimi nodded. "She told us she felt like you had saved her. That she was meant to find you. She was willing to kill herself, Roger, but then she met you and everything started to work itself out."  
  
"But that didn't stop her from doing it, did it?" Roger asked, softly.  
  
"About a week after that meeting, the Life Support leader, Paul, told us she's committed suicide."  
  
It nearly killed her to see the pained expression on Roger's face.  
  
"But WHY?" he moaned, feeling his eyes begin to tear.  
  
"A month earlier she'd found out that her previous boyfriend had given her AIDS. And she then realized that she must have given it to you too."  
  
"It's my fault," he moaned, feeling a tear starting to leak from the corner of his eyelid. He didn't bother to wipe it away. "I should have noticed something was wrong- I could have done something about it. I could have SAVED her, damn it!"  
  
"You couldn't have done anything," Mimi whispered. "It was you, Roger, you who SAVED her. She only had a short time to live, and in that short time you made her the happiest she ever was."  
  
"She said that?" he whispered.  
  
Mimi nodded, feeling teary herself from seeing Roger like this.  
  
"I shouldn't have pushed you before," she said, softly. "I should have known it was a testy topic for you."  
  
Roger shook his head. "Don't apologize, Meems. I'd kept all my feelings bottled up inside for too long until I was almost bubbling over- and I DID. And I hurt you," he looked at her, apologetically.  
  
"Could you forgive me?" he asked, his eyes, pleading.  
  
"Of course I will," Mimi said, softly. "I'm sorry too."  
  
Roger nodded, afraid if he said anything he would start to sob. He was embarrassed enough to be seen in tears in front of Mimi.  
  
"How's your head?" he finally asked, lamely.  
  
Mimi gave him a wobbly smile. "Honestly, it hurts like hell."  
  
Roger let out a slow sheepish chuckle, and a few sobs escaped as well, and then he couldn't hold them back any longer. He turned away from her, ashamed.  
  
"You can cry," Mimi whispered, wrapping her arms around him.  
  
"I don't want what happened to April to happen to you," he choked out.  
  
Mimi hugged him tightly. "It won't," she said, firmly.  
  
"I won't let it," Roger promised her. "I promise, I won't let it."  
  
Mimi sniffed, and nodded.  
  
Roger lowered his head into her lap, and let go.  
  
Mimi ran her fingers through his tousled hair, and then bent down so her cheek rested on the top of his head. She closed her eyes, wishing she could block out the sound of Roger crying. It was a foreign sound to her.  
  
"I love you, Roger," she whispered.  
  
Roger lifted his head up and embraced her, hugging tightly.  
  
They both sat, entwined together for what seemed like an eternity.  
  
Maybe it was.  
  
a/n: Yeah, that was short and sappy- Roger bawling like a little baby (AWWW!) I had to show you guys the warm fuzzy side of him, you know, like the cream filling in a hostess cupcake? Think of Roger as a cupcake. This is NOT THE END! More to come! 


	14. Send in the Clowns

"Meems?"  
  
Mimi lifted her cheek off of Roger's head and looked down at him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"You wanna do something tonight . . . just the two of us?"  
  
"Okay," she smiled.  
  
Roger smiled too.  
  
"Your eyes are all red," Mimi said, softly, putting her hand on his face.  
  
"I'm gonna go wash my face really quick," Roger mumbled, "I don't want them to see I've been crying." He looked at Mimi. "You won't tell them, right?"  
  
"Not unless I need to blackmail you," Mimi teased.  
  
"Okay," Roger said, grinning. He hopped up from the couch and made a quick detour to the bathroom.  
  
Mimi stood up after he'd left, and quietly walked down the hall that led to Mark and Roger's bedrooms. It was there that she found Mark, Isabella, Daisha and Collins, all with guilty looks on their faces.  
  
"You guys were listening to all of that?" she snapped, angrily.  
  
"Hey, don't get mad at us- it was Daisha's idea," Mark protested.  
  
Daisha kicked him in the knee.  
  
"Ow!"  
  
"That's really low, even for you, Daisha," Mimi said, angrily.  
  
"Sorry," mumbled Daisha, scuffling her feet.  
  
Mimi sighed. "Look, just don't say anything to Roger, okay? He was embarrassed enough for crying in front of me."  
  
"Alright," they chorused, glumly.  
  
"How's your head?" Collins asked her.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Better."  
  
"You guys wanna go have an early dinner at the Life or something?" Isabella suggested.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "Me and Roger are gonna do something together tonight. You guys can go though, it's fine. Invite Maureen and Joanne too. They could probably use a break from that asshole."  
  
"Jimmy?" asked Collins.  
  
"You know any other assholes?"  
  
"Yeah. Benny."  
  
"Collins, Benny talks out of his ass all the time. You shouldn't take anything he says to heart," Mimi said to him, frowning.  
  
Collins sighed. "I know- it's just when he talks about Angel that I get really upset."  
  
"He's a creep," Mimi declared, "Don't listen to him."  
  
At that moment, the bathroom doorknob began to turn.  
  
"Quick guys, go into the other room," Mimi hissed.  
  
They all scrambled into Mark's bedroom, closing the door quietly behind them.  
  
Roger stepped out of the bathroom.  
  
"Hey," he said when he saw Mimi, "You didn't need to wait outside the door."  
  
"It's nothing," Mimi shrugged. "I talked to the others, Roger. They forgive you." Obviously, she didn't mention that they had heard him breaking down like a baby just moments before.  
  
"Okay," Roger sighed, relieved. "Was Mark understanding too?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'm worried about him," Roger said, softly.  
  
"Why, baby?" Mimi asked, standing closer to him.  
  
"He and Jan are sort of at a bump right now. The whole April thing kind of shocked her, you know?"  
  
"Well, I'd be too," Mimi said, simply. Roger sighed. "I just hope things work out between the two of them. I haven't seen Mark that happy in a long time."  
  
"Me too," Mimi said, softly.  
  
"Did you tell the others we won't be able to make it to dinner?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay." He slipped on his coat and knocked on Mark's door.  
  
"Yes?" four voices called out.  
  
Roger frowned. "Um, is Mark in there?"  
  
"I'm here," a single voice said.  
  
"Ok, um, Mimi and I are going to go out now, just to let you know." He paused. "What are you guys all doing in there anyway?"  
  
"Nothing," they all said at the same time.  
  
Roger raised his eyebrow and looked at Mimi, who shrugged.  
  
"You ready?" he asked her, putting his arms around her waist.  
  
"Yes," she said, snuggling against his shoulder. "Where are we going?"  
  
"It's a surprise," he teased her.  
  
"Oooh!"  
  
They left the loft together, with their arms around each other.  
  
***  
  
"Well, that went well," Collins said, sarcastically after Mimi and Roger had left. He turned to Mark. "Are you going to come to the Life with us?"  
  
Mark shook his head. "Nope. I'm going to go back to Jan's place. I'm gonna try to sort things out with her."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Isabella said, gently. "The fact that you and Roger knew April was just a shock to her, that's all."  
  
Mark looked at her, gratefully.  
  
"Well, I'm going to head out now too," he said, retrieving his scarf from his closet.  
  
"Alright. I'll stop downstairs and get Frankie. I'll meet you two downstairs, okay?"  
  
"I'll call Maureen and Joanne and tell them to meet us there," said Isabella.  
  
"Okay. I just hope Frankie doesn't bring the dog with her," Collins sighed.  
  
Daisha smirked. "Pretty soon you're going to be attached to it."  
  
"When that time comes, put me out of my misery," he said, firmly.  
  
Daisha shrugged. "Whatever. Iz, can we go now? I'm starved."  
  
"Calm down, we're going," Isabella said, standing up. The three of them approached the door.  
  
Isabella turned to face Mark right before they left. "We'll see you later?"  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"Okay. Things will work out with Jan, don't worry."  
  
"I hope so," Mark said, softly.  
  
Then he was left alone.  
  
He slipped his feet into his shoes and buttoned up his coat, leaving the lot as well.  
  
***  
  
"You know, this would be a lot more romantic if we had a taxi or something," Mimi joked, struggling to catch up with Roger, who was walking quickly.  
  
"Who needs a taxi?" he said, stopping, "When you've got the Roger Express?" Without warning, he scooped Mimi into the air, and began to carry her down the street.  
  
"Roger! Stop!" Mimi shrieked, giggling.  
  
"I thought you said a taxi would be more romantic," he teased.  
  
Mimi squirmed. "It won't be very romantic when you end up dropping me!"  
  
"Drop you? Never." He began to skip, Mimi still in his arms.  
  
"Roger, you ass! People are looking!" Mimi groaned, as helplessly went limp in his arms.  
  
"So what? They're admiring us," he said to her, as he skipped along, holding her up easily. After a while, he put her down.  
  
"Ride's over," he said, cracking his knuckles.  
  
She smacked him lightly on the arm. "You moron."  
  
"It's part of my charm," he told her.  
  
Mimi laughed. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going?"  
  
"Central Park."  
  
"Ah. Did you get a dinner reservation there?" she teased him.  
  
"I called in early to let the trees know we were coming."  
  
"I hope you got a good table."  
  
"Only the best for you, milady," he said, swooping her up into his arms, planting a kiss on her forehead.  
  
"Can I ask you something, babe?" asked Mimi as he set her back down on the ground.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Well, ever since I saw Daisha and Isabella again, it's been making me real homesick, you know?"  
  
Roger nodded.  
  
"And I haven't seen my mom in like- five years almost."  
  
"You want to visit her?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," she admitted. She paused. "The thing is, she's married to Joel . . . so obviously I'd have to find a way to get around him."  
  
"Maybe you can call and arrange to meet her somewhere."  
  
"Maybe." She brightened up.  
  
Roger shoved his hands into his pockets as they walked.  
  
"Meems?"  
  
"Yep?"  
  
"Why did your mother marry Joel if he's as bad as you say he is?"  
  
Mimi frowned.  
  
Roger stopped, seeing her discomfort. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine."  
  
"No, it's okay," Mimi said.  
  
Roger watched her, waiting.  
  
"After my father died, my mom had to start working. She got a job as a hotel maid. It was the best job she could find."  
  
"There are worse things," Roger said.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Anyway, she'd been working there for about a month, and then one day she was cleaning this guy's room- guess who it was?"  
  
"Joel?"  
  
"Bingo. Apparently he fell in love with her when he saw her, even with that ugly uniform on," Mimi said, smiling. "He started to see her in other places, and then asked her out. Before I knew it, they were married. And then a few years after that they had a baby."  
  
"You have ANOTHER sibling?" Roger exclaimed.  
  
"No . . . the baby was Daisha."  
  
"Daisha is JOEL'S daughter?" Roger exclaimed.  
  
Mimi nodded. "She's my half sister. Joel's her real father, but obviously she hates him just as much as I do."  
  
"But she calls him Joel anyway?"  
  
"Would you call the person you hated more than anyone in the world father?"  
  
Roger thought about that.  
  
"Anyway, he started to drink a lot, and he would drink away a lot of our money. I don't know HOW he ended up with such a good job that he was able to move my family to the city. I guess he's got bigger connections than I thought. He got really violent whenever he drank. Especially towards me and Daisha- never Isabella. He'd grown some kind of respect for her. Iz can do that to you."  
  
Roger nodded. He knew what she meant.  
  
"All that vodka changed him. I never liked him anyway, he was always really rude and obnoxious- a lot like Jimmy. But each year he became meaner, and more violent. He stopped drinking after his Dad died, but that didn't change the person he'd become. I guess you just can't go back." Mimi sighed.  
  
"Does your mother still love him?" Roger asked, softly.  
  
"No," Mimi said, looking at the ground. "But there's really nothing she can do- if she divorces him, she's left with nothing. Everything we have his really his. He's the breadwinner, he's the one who got the house, the furniture, everything. I personally would rather be in a homeless shelter than living with Joel, but my mom's not that kind of person. She's not as strong. She allows herself to be pushed around, and I hate her for that." Mimi sighed and snuggled closer to Roger. "When I see her, I'm going to tell her how Joel's been threatening me. Maybe I can convince her- there's got to be SOMETHING I can do."  
  
"I'm sure there is," Roger assured her.  
  
Mimi shrugged. She smiled at him. "Sorry to bore you."  
  
"You're not."  
  
"Okay." She looked around them. "How close are we to the park?"  
  
"About five blocks."  
  
"Really? I didn't really notice how much we were walking while I was talking."  
  
"Yeah. You talk A LOT," Roger teased her.  
  
Mimi stuck her tongue our at him.  
  
"So what are we going to do for food, anyway?"  
  
Roger shrugged. "Well, I hear they serve the finest grass in the city."  
  
"Sounds appetizing."  
  
"Oh, it will be."  
  
***  
  
"Jan?"  
  
Mark knocked on her door, softly. "It's Mark. I know you wanted to be alone . . . but I needed to see you. Could you open the door? Please?"  
  
After a moment, Roger heard her footsteps walking towards the door.  
  
"I'm really sorry about upsetting you before," he started to say, as the door opened. But it wasn't Jan. It was a man, much taller than Mark. He stood in front of Mark, his arms folded in front of his chest.  
  
"Who are YOU?" Mark said, stupidly.  
  
"I'm Jan's boyfriend," the man answered, coldly. "Who are YOU?"  
  
"Her boyfriend."  
  
They both glared at each other, menacingly.  
  
"Mark, is that you?" Mark heard Jan's voice as she squeezed in next to the guy who was claiming to be her boyfriend.  
  
"Hi, Jan," Mark said, flatly. "I came to talk to you. But it looks like you're already busy." He turned and started to walk back down the hallway.  
  
"Mark!" Jan yelled, squeezing passed her 'boyfriend,' running after Mark. She put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.  
  
"What are you doing?" she hissed.  
  
"ME? You're the one with your 'Ex Boyfriend' here!"  
  
"He just showed up a little while before you arrived," she whispered, so he wouldn't hear her.  
  
"So that's Cary?" he asked, staring.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Handsome," he said, sarcastically.  
  
Jan sighed. "Mark, this isn't what it seems like. Cary showed up a few minutes ago. I told him I've met someone else, but he's still trying to convince me to come back to him." She smirked. "Like that'll happen."  
  
"So . . . nothing went on between you two?"  
  
"God, Mark, OF COURSE not! I love you! Don't you know that?"  
  
"But before . . . I thought you were mad at me."  
  
"I wasn't mad. I was just shocked. It's just a really weird coincidence that you knew April- and that Roger was her boyfriend."  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"So I've been trying to get rid of him," Jan said, in a low voice.  
  
"Jan?" Cary asked from the doorway, in a loud, rough voice. "That guy bothering you?"  
  
"Cary, please just leave me alone!" Jan yelled back at him. "I'm seeing Mark now. He would never hurt you the way you do."  
  
"I never hurt you," Cary sneered. "You'd seriously prefer that geek over me?"  
  
"Better a 'geek' then someone with steroids for brains. Just GET OUT."  
  
"You like him better, huh? I'll show you who's better," Cary growled, as he walked up to them.  
  
"Shit," Mark said, quietly.  
  
Cary shoved Mark up against the wall. "What are you doing with her, faggot? She's way out of your league. You think she'd REALLY go far someone like you?"  
  
"At least I don't hurt her, and I actually care about her," Mark snapped, furiously. He didn't think before adding, "Asshole."  
  
"You little shit," growled Cary, cuffing Mark in the face.  
  
"CARY STOP IT!" screamed Jan, but Cary shoved her away, roughly, knocking her to the floor.  
  
Mark thought he was going to hit him again, but he slammed his fist into the wall, right next to Mark's head.  
  
"You both deserve each other," he growled, leaving.  
  
As soon as he'd left, Mark rushed to Jan's side.  
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, nervously. "Did he hurt you?"  
  
Jan winced. "I think I twisted my ankle when I fell."  
  
"Here," Mark said, helping her to her feet. He let her lean on him, and he helped her hobble back inside the apartment, locking it just in case Cary decided to return.  
  
"I'm sorry about that," she mumbled, limping over to the refrigerator to grab an icepack.  
  
"It's nothing," he assured her. "Happens all the time," he joked.  
  
Jan sighed, as she applied the ice to her ankle. "Don't laugh about it, Mark. You're lucky he didn't really hurt you. He once broke a guy's jaw for giving me 'looks' at a restaurant.  
  
"Jesus," Mark muttered.  
  
Jan sighed. "So why'd you come back, anyway?" I realized right after you left what a bitch I must have seemed like."  
  
Mark shook his head. "You didn't. I came back because I wanted to make sure we were okay."  
  
"You had to ask?" Jan said, smiling.  
  
Mark shrugged.  
  
"I mean, the whole thing with April IS weird- but that doesn't mean I've stopped loving you," she assured him.  
  
He smiled. "Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
They leaned forward and kissed, gently.  
  
Jan glanced down. "Happy to see me or is it just cold in here?"  
  
Blushing, Mark crossed his legs.  
  
Jan laughed. "Don't worry about it, Mark."  
  
"Well, I AM happy to see you."  
  
Jan smiled. "Are you tired?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Don't play the clueless innocent schoolboy, Mark- I know you better."  
  
"Well, OKAY," he pretended to think about it for more than a second.  
  
"Bring Mr. Peepers with you."  
  
Mark blushed again, as he and Jan walked together into her bedroom, giggling like two schoolgirls. 


	15. Repaired

"The grass is wet," Mimi observed, as she and Roger walked further into the park.  
  
"So? Wet is good," joked Roger, giving her a light push.  
  
Mimi fell on her butt.  
  
"Damn it, Roger, my ass is all wet now," she complained.  
  
Roger put on a goofy smile and plopped down on the soggy grass beside her.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "You ass."  
  
Roger stuck his tongue out.  
  
Mimi giggled, and he leaned in to kiss her.  
  
"Baby, people are watching," she murmured, as he kissed her neck.x  
  
"So?" came his muffled reply.  
  
"So, I'd rather do this somewhere where there weren't fifty people watching."  
  
"Meems, this is New York," he laughed, pulling her back down beside him. "Wherever we go, people are going to watch us."  
  
Mimi sighed, giving in.  
  
"Get a room!" someone yelled, a few moments later.  
  
Roger sat up and gave the guy a dirty look. "Get a girl!"  
  
"Roger?"  
  
"Mitch?"  
  
"Hell, it IS you! How are you, Roger?"  
  
"I'm great! God, I haven't seen you in so long!"  
  
Mimi pulled herself to a sitting position. "Aren't you going to introduce me?"  
  
"Oh, sorry, Meems. Mitch, this is my girlfriend Mimi. Mimi, Mitch."  
  
"Hi," Mimi said.  
  
"Mitch was my roommate at college."  
  
Mimi frowned. "You went to college?"  
  
Roger blushed. "For like four months. Then I dropped out."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Well, we all have our little secrets, don't we?"  
  
"I know I do," said Mitch. "So, Roger, how've you been? Where do you live now?"  
  
"Same place."  
  
"Still living with Mark?"  
  
"Yup. And Mimi moved in with me a couple of months ago. What about you?"  
  
"Well, I got my degree in English, and I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. You remember Karen Harber?  
  
Roger nodded.  
  
"We're married," Mitch declared, proudly. "I proposed to her the day after graduation."  
  
"That's great, Mitch. Have you guys settled into your own place?"  
  
"Yeah, we got an apartment a few blocks from here. Karen would have come with me to walk, but she's tired, you know. Pregnancy can do that to you."  
  
"She's pregnant? ALREADY?"  
  
"It's never too early," Mitch said, grinning. "She's about almost six months along now. The ultrasound showed that we're gonna have a girl."  
  
"Congratulations!" Roger exclaimed, truly happy for him.  
  
Mitch beamed. "Thanks. So, you and Mimi have any kids yet?"  
  
"Not yet," Mimi said, as Roger blushed.  
  
"It's the shits, I'll tell you. I mean, once Eva's born, it'll be all worth it, but Karen's been feeling pretty shitty, you know?"  
  
"No, I wouldn't know," Mimi said, smiling.  
  
"Well. Sometimes I wish I was the one who was pregnant instead of her, so she wouldn't have to feel any pain."  
  
"How sweet of you," Roger said, rolling his eyes. Mimi nudged him, gently.  
  
"So what are you doing this weekend, Roger? If Karen feels up to it, maybe we can all meet up somewhere."  
  
'Well . . . I've got a gig with the guys coming up this weekend at CBGB's."  
  
"No! You're still with the Hungarians?"  
  
"Guilty."  
  
"It's a commitment, huh?"  
  
"It's no problem," Roger said, shrugging.  
  
"What time is it going to be at?"  
  
"It's on Saturday, at eleven. I don't want you to have to drag Karen over if she doesn't want too, though. She probably won't even remember me."  
  
"Sure she'll remember you! And it's no problem bringing her, I'm sure she'd love to come. It'll give the baby something good to listen to in the womb, won't it?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," Roger laughed.  
  
"Great! I'll see you then! It was great bumping into you, Roger. My other roommates were boring as hell."  
  
"I'll bet," Roger said, laughing.  
  
"See you Saturday! See you, Mimi."  
  
"Bye," Mimi waved, as he left.  
  
"He was nice," Mimi said, after Mitch had gone.  
  
"Yeah. The two of us were CRAZY. I mean, I was only at NYU for four months, but we had quite a reputation, I must say."  
  
"You got into NYU?" Mimi asked, impressed.  
  
"Yup. English-Literature."  
  
"YOU? English literature? I didn't even know you could read!"  
  
"Shut up!" he pretended to be hurt. "I could recite a mean version of Romeo and Juliet in my day."  
  
"Can I be Juliet?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Wanna know something funny?"  
  
"Hit me."  
  
"I was Juliet once in a high school play once."  
  
"You're shitting me."  
  
"No!" Mimi was laughing, "I swear, Rodge! I was Juliet and this guy named Zach Greene was Romeo. He was on the football team, AND he was in drama club."  
  
"How the hell'd he manage that?" Roger asked, amazed.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "No idea. But he was a damn good Romeo."  
  
"Not as good as me, right?"  
  
"Well, I wouldn't know. You'd have to recite some Shakespeare in order for me to decide."  
  
"Maria, Maria, where art thou Maria," Roger swooned, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back down to the grass with him.  
  
"Don't call me Maria," she snapped, smacking his hand playfully.  
  
"Sorry. Maria CONCHITA."  
  
"ROGER!"  
  
"Jeez, testy. I like Mimi anyway. It's more lyrical. You can use your name to write a song."  
  
Mimi blinked. "Are you drunk?"  
  
"Mimi, Mimi, you make me dreamy, your skin is creamy, and when you're in my bed, it's STEAMY."  
  
Mimi shook her head and applauded. "I see Pulitzer prizes in your future."  
  
"I've got a bunch where that came from. I don't know where I put them though," he said, pretending to think.  
  
"You dork."  
  
"Loser."  
  
"Love you."  
  
"Love you too."  
  
"Roger, you're sitting on my foot."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Mimi laughed. "It's okay." She snuggled beside him, not caring anymore that the damp grass was soaking her clothes.  
  
"You think Maureen and Joanne or Collins and Frankie have as much fun as we do?"  
  
"What about Mark and Jan?"  
  
"Are they . . . okay?"  
  
"Well, Mark just went back over to Jan's. I think the whole thing of me going out with her sister before she died sort of freaked her out."  
  
"Yeah . . ." Mimi couldn't think of anything else to say.  
  
"I hope they're okay."  
  
"Me too."  
  
Roger sat up suddenly, as he struggled to change the subject.  
  
"Meems, are you hungry?"  
  
"No. Why, are you?"  
  
"No."  
  
Mimi gave him a weird smile. "Roger, if you're not comfortable discussing April in front of me, I understand."  
  
Roger shrugged. "Well you knew her too. Or a different side of her at least." He sighed. "She had a good heart."  
  
"I know."  
  
Roger leaned forward, kissing her neck. They lay there for a moment. Suddenly, Mimi sat up. Roger leaned on his elbows, looking at her.  
  
"What is it, Meems?"  
  
"I just wanted to do something all of a sudden."  
  
"If it's something illegal, we can't do it here. Especially not with all these people watching."  
  
"Not THAT kind of thing!" Mimi exclaimed, laughing. "I wanted to visit my mom."  
  
Roger was silent for a moment. "How come?"  
  
"She's my MOTHER, Roger."  
  
"I know, but the only time I ever heard you even talk about her was tonight."  
  
"I know. And it made me miss her a lot. I'm really happy that Isabella and Daisha are so close now, but I'd like to see my mom again too. I haven't seen her in five years."  
  
"So you want to go visit her?" Roger asked, sitting up so that he was leaning against her.  
  
"Yeah. I mean, it'd have to be when Joel's out working or something. Isabella probably knows when a good time to go is." She glanced at Roger, shyly. "Would you go with me?"  
  
"Of course I would," he said, nuzzling her shoulder. "You really have to ask?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "I always thought family reunions were boring."  
  
"When you've got people like Isabella and Daisha in your family, Mimi, your family's NEVER boring."  
  
Mimi laughed.  
  
"So we've got a full schedule now," Roger said. "The gig's on Saturday. Maureen's gallery opening is on Sunday. When do you want to see your mom?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Anytime is fine. Soon, if possible. Not tomorrow . . . maybe two or three days from then? I want to surprise her, also. I don't want to let her know I'm coming. Besides, if I call in advance, I'm afraid Joel would pick up the phone."  
  
"Okay," he said, gently. "I'd be with you anyway, though. You know I'd never let anything happen to you."  
  
"I know."  
  
They began to kiss again, more passionately, and suddenly Mimi pulled away for a moment.  
  
"Roger," she said, giggling, "I think our bedroom would be a more appropriate place to finish this."  
  
"Quite right, milady."  
  
"So you're resorting to Shakespeare again?"  
  
"Just as long as you'll be my Juliet."  
  
Mimi smiled. "I already am, Romeo."  
  
Roger stood to his feet and held out a hand, pulling her up off the ground. "Shall I escort you home in your royal chariot, milady?"  
  
"Sure," she said, realizing too late then what he was about to do.  
  
"Roger!" she shrieked, as he picked her up off the ground.  
  
"What? It's faster this way."  
  
"I have two feet- I can walk!"  
  
"If you say so," he sighed, putting her down.  
  
"Just wait until we get home, though," she said, winking at him.  
  
"Oh, happy dagger!"  
  
***  
  
"Wow," Jan breathed, leaning over the side of the bed to grab her bathrobe, which was crumpled on the floor.  
  
"Hoooooo," Mark said, letting out a whoosh of air. "That was fun."  
  
"It was," Jan agreed.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
Jan glanced at the clock hanging above her bureau. "Nine-thirty."  
  
"Already? JESUS!" he quickly put a hand to his mouth. "I mean um, shit!"  
  
"You don't use the word 'Jesus'?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Mark shrugged. "I'm Jewish."  
  
"Aw, my mother always told me she wanted me to date a nice Jewish boy!"  
  
Mark blushed. "I don't know about nice."  
  
Jan laughed. "Well, you'll always be nice in my book. Except on certain occasions."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No problem."  
  
"I should head home," Mark said, pulling his shirt back over his head.  
  
"You want me to come with you just in case Cary shows up again?"  
  
"Why? You gonna beat him up for me?"  
  
Mark hid a smile.  
  
"I told you, I've got a black belt in karate."  
  
"So? I know Kung Fu," Mark said, in his best corny Japanese voice.  
  
Jan rolled her eyes and laughed.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, as he slid his pants on.  
  
"If that's the soonest time," she said, smiling.  
  
"Okay." He finished tying his shoes, and leaned forward to kiss her on the lips.  
  
"And Mark?" Jan said, just before he left the bedroom.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Keep the Kung Fu to a minimum, okay?"  
  
"Aw. Alright. See you tomorrow, my Karate Queen."  
  
Jan laughed again. "Okay. Goodnight."  
  
"Night," Mark whispered, quietly shutting the bedroom door behind him. 


	16. Bumpy Road

Mimi's eyes opened the next morning, to see an empty space in the place Roger had been previously sleeping. In it's place was a note resting on his pillow.  
  
Mimi-  
  
Got up early this morning to practice with the guys. Didn't want to bother you. See you later today.  
  
Love, Romeo  
  
Mimi smiled and rolled onto her side, slowly falling back asleep.  
  
About half an hour later, Mimi felt someone shaking her awake.  
  
"Roger?" she mumbled, sneaking a quick glance at the clock next to the bed. It was almost noon.  
  
"Nope. Sorry," said Isabella, plopping down onto the edge of the bed.  
  
"What are you doing here, Iz?" Mimi grumbled, annoyed.  
  
"I promised Daisha last night that I'd give her some driving lessons this morning, but I just found out I've got to get to the library to work early. So guess who that leaves to take Daisha?"  
  
Mimi sat up, fully awake now. "You're kidding."  
  
"Honey, would I joke about having to work?"  
  
"Iz, you KNOW I can't drive," Mimi snapped, as she swooped her hair into a messy bun.  
  
"Don't tell me you can't, Meems. You passed Driver's Ed."  
  
"Yeah, by like a POINT. I can't even remember the last time I've been behind the wheel of a car, anyway."  
  
"You remember enough, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, but I don't know if I can DO it, still," Mimi exclaimed.  
  
Isabella shrugged. "You won't know 'til you try, Meems. Besides, Daisha's already out there waiting for you. I'll be back in a couple of hours. You know the number just in case of an emergencies? It's nine-one-one."  
  
"Shut up," grumbled Mimi, not in the mood for jokes.  
  
"Sorry. Anyway, I have my cell on me. I gave you the number, right?"  
  
Mimi nodded.  
  
"So everything's fine. I'll see you soon?"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"It'll be fine, Meems. Just show her what you were taught." She gave Mimi a quick squeeze before getting up to leave.  
  
Mimi sighed, and forced herself out of bed, and got dressed.  
  
"Are we going now?" Daisha asked Mimi as she emerged from the bedroom.  
  
"Yep. You trust me, right?"  
  
Daisha gave her a quizzical look. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"  
  
"Never mind. Just wait outside; I'll be out there in a sec."  
  
Daisha obeyed, and went out.  
  
Mimi grabbed the phone from out of its cradle, dialing Maureen and Joanne's number.  
  
After about two rings, Joanne answered the phone.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey, Joanne, it's Mimi. Is Maureen there?"  
  
"Nope. She and Jimmy went out to see the place where the gallery's gonna be held."  
  
Mimi made a face. "Oh."  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Well, Isabella left me in charge of giving Daisha driving lessons . . . I mean when she goes back to school, she's going to need to know stuff for Driver's Ed. And uh, I can't really drive."  
  
"You want me to come over and help you out?"  
  
"Would you?"  
  
"Sure. I've got nothing better to do, anyway."  
  
"Thanks, Joanne," Mimi sighed. "You're a lifesaver."  
  
"Anytime. I'll be right up, okay?"  
  
"Alright. Bye."  
  
Mimi hung up the phone, and stuck her head out the door, where Daisha was waiting, impatiently.  
  
"Daish, we're going to have a little company, alright?"  
  
"Who? Roger?"  
  
"No, Joanne."  
  
"Oh." Daisha paused for a moment. "Why?"  
  
"Because, um, just in case of an emergency," Mimi said quickly, not wanting to admit to Daisha that she barely remembered how to drive.  
  
"Oh, alright. Is she meeting us here?"  
  
"She's coming up shortly."  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
"Perfect timing."  
  
"Hey guys," Joanne greeted, as Daisha opened the door.  
  
"Hi," Mimi and Daisha both said at the same time.  
  
Joanne laughed and adjusted her scarf. "You guys ready to go?"  
  
Daisha nodded her head eagerly, and Mimi shrugged, helplessly.  
  
"Alright, let's go get the car, 'kay?"  
  
***  
  
"Alright, first thing's first," Joanne said, as she slipped into the passenger seat next to Daisha. Mimi sat in back of Joanne.  
  
"Seatbelts on?" Joanne asked Daisha.  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Alright. Keys in ignition?"  
  
Daisha nodded.  
  
"Alright, let's start her up then, shall we?"  
  
They slowly drove around the parking lot, and Mimi made note of everything Joanne said. Everything was all starting to slowly come back to her.  
  
After about an hour, Daisha parked the car, as she was directed by Joanne.  
  
"Good job!" Joanne told her, encouragingly. "This is only your first time driving?"  
  
"Well, my mother showed me a little bit," Daisha said, shrugging.  
  
"You still did good today."  
  
Daisha beamed, proudly. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Joanne turned to Mimi. "You wanna try?"  
  
"What?" Mimi said quickly, her face turning red.  
  
"Well, you were listening back there, weren't you? You want to give it a go?"  
  
Feeling Daisha's eyes on her, Mimi slowly nodded her head. "Okay."  
  
"Great." Joanne turned to Daisha. "You want to stay here, or are you going to go back upstairs?"  
  
"Nah, I'll go back up," Daisha said, holding up the spare key Mimi had given her. "I'll see you two later. Thanks again, Joanne."  
  
"No problem, sweetie," Joanne smiled.  
  
"You ready?" she asked Mimi, when Daisha had left.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "I guess so." She slid behind the wheel, putting her hands on the wheel, cautiously. She gently pressed her foot down on the pedal, frowning when nothing happened.  
  
"Meems?"  
  
Mimi turned to Joanne, who was holding the keys in her hand.  
  
"Oops," Mimi said, giving her a sheepish grin. She turned the key in the ignition, and started the car up at a slow pace, as Joanne patiently directed her.  
  
Mimi gripped the steering wheel tightly, her eyes wide and alert.  
  
"You don't need to hunch over like that, Mimi. You don't want to get pitched through the windshield, do you?"  
  
Mimi immediately sat back.  
  
"What's the matter? You have a phobia of driving or something?"  
  
"No. I just suck at it," Mimi said, grinning.  
  
Joanne shook her head, laughing. "So where's Roger?"  
  
"He's practicing with the guys. He's either at CBGB's or at Chad's place. You and Maureen are gonna come tommorow, right?"  
  
Joanne nodded. "Of course." She paused. "And erm, Jimmy."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"He insisted on coming, Meems. I mean, I hate him too, but as much as a prick that he is, he DID get the booking for Maureen."  
  
Mimi shook her head, disgusted. "Roger's not going to be happy about this."  
  
"We'll arrive a few minutes after the gig starts, then. We'll take a seat in the back. He won't even see Jimmy."  
  
"He's not stupid, Joanne. He'll figure it out." Mimi suddenly realized that she had tensed up at the wheel.  
  
"I'm sorry about the other night, Mimi."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"When he . . . you know."  
  
"Jeez, Joanne, it's not your fault! He's just an asshole, that's all."  
  
Joanne shrugged.  
  
They were both silent for a moment.  
  
"You know," Joanne suddenly spoke up, "For someone who hasn't driven in such a long time, you're doing really well."  
  
"Really?" Mimi turned to Joanne.  
  
Joanne nodded. "Really. I'd never have thought that you didn't know how." Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Mimi, watch that . . ."  
  
All of a sudden the front tire went over a bump, and a small popping noise was heard as the car slowly skidded to a stop.  
  
"Fuck," said Mimi, her hands still on the wheel. "What was that?"  
  
"A broken glass bottle," Joanne sighed, getting out of the car to kneel down by the tire.  
  
Mimi scrambled out and knelt down beside her, not really sure what she should be looking for.  
  
"Shit," Joanne complained, "It's a flat."  
  
"I'll pay for it," Mimi said quickly, her face turning red.  
  
"It's fine, Mimi," Joanne assured her.  
  
"You sure? Because I've got some money saved up . . ."  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'll just call someone to fix it. Or maybe I can fix it myself. Whatever, I'll figure it out." She smiled at Mimi.  
  
"Alright, if you're sure," Mimi said, slowly.  
  
"I am."  
  
"Okay. You want to come up to use the phone?"  
  
"Thanks, but," she rustled into her bag and held up her cell phone.  
  
"Oh." Mimi paused. "God I'm such an idiot, Joanne, I should have been paying attention."  
  
"Mimi, don't worry about it!" Joanne exclaimed, nudging her lightly. "You go back upstairs with Daisha. I'll call someone to fix the tire. I'll see you at the gig, okay?"  
  
"Okay." Mimi shoved her hands into her coat pockets. "Just come up if you need anything, okay?"  
  
"Alright, thanks. See you later, Mimi."  
  
"See you."  
  
"How was it?" Daisha asked Mimi when she entered the apartment, an English muffin stuffed in her mouth.  
  
Mimi wrinkled her nose. "Jesus, Daisha, chew your food."  
  
"Sorry." She swallowed. "So how'd it go?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Fine. I got a flat tire."  
  
Daisha laughed. "And that's fine?"  
  
"It was an accident," Mimi grumbled, grabbing the muffin from Daisha's hand and tearing off half of it before returning it to her.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"I'm hungry. Sue me."  
  
"Chew your food," Daisha mimicked her.  
  
Mimi made a face at her.  
  
Daisha gave her the finger.  
  
"Get out of here!" Mimi laughed, shoving Daisha aside.  
  
"Morning," came another voice as Mark entered the room.  
  
"Well. The sleeping prince has arisen," Mimi said, pretending to bow down.  
  
"It's about time you started showing me some respect," Mark yawned. "Where's Roger?"  
  
"Practicing with the guys."  
  
"Go figure." He yawned again.  
  
"Didn't you get any sleep last night?"  
  
"Nah. Had too much on my mind."  
  
"Jan?"  
  
Mark nodded, sheepishly.  
  
"English muffin?" Daisha offered him.  
  
"Thanks," he said, taking it. "So where's everyone else?"  
  
"Isabella's working, Maureen and Jimmy are out together, Joanne's fixing a flat tire, and I don't know what Collins and Frankie are doing," Mimi said in one breath.  
  
Mark raised his eyebrow. "How'd Joanne get a flat tire? I thought she was a careful driver."  
  
"SHE is," Daisha laughed. "Mimi isn't."  
  
Mimi glared at her. "Mocoso."  
  
"Muérdame."  
  
"Con el placer."  
  
"Whoa! English! Por favor!" Mark exclaimed.  
  
"Lo siento."  
  
Mark rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'm probably going over to Jan's later."  
  
"Again?" Mimi said, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Hey, you LIVE with Roger. I can go over and visit my girlfriend, can I?"  
  
"Yeah, but Roger and I have known each other for more than two days."  
  
"Four," Mark corrected her. "Including the time I knocked her over outside the Life Café."  
  
"Whatever. Four." Mimi shrugged. "Go over there if you want."  
  
"Okay. I'll see you two later?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Okay." Mark picked up his camera.  
  
"What's that for? You gonna make a porn video?"  
  
"No," he snapped. "I just film everything. You know that."  
  
"Yeah, but you haven't used the camera in a long time."  
  
Mark shrugged. "I was in withdrawal. Now I'm not."  
  
Mimi shrugged as well. "Okay. See you tonight?"  
  
"If I'm not too busy," Mark said, smiling sheepishly.  
  
"Whatever. Bye."  
  
"Bye, guys," he said, and Mimi and Daisha watched as he left.  
  
***  
  
"Once more from the top, guys!"  
  
"Fuck, Chad, we've done the same song seven times already," Roger grumbled, shifting his fender guitar to the other shoulder.  
  
"Practice makes perfect, Davis," Chad replied. "You want people to root for us out there or use Andy's drumsticks to plug their ears in?"  
  
"Hey!" snapped Andy, from behind his drum-set. "I'm the one here actually keeping up with you, Chad. It's Matt that's nodding off over there."  
  
"I'm not!" Matt exclaimed, settling his acoustic on the ground.  
  
"Are too, pretty boy. Do you need a mirror? It looks like you're trying to see yourself in that guitar."  
  
Matt ran a hand through his spiky bleached hair. "Fuck off," he mumbled.  
  
"Can you guys ALL shut up, so we can actually get this right?" demanded Stu, his hands impatiently waiting on top of the keyboard.  
  
"Yeah, guys, quit fighting. We'll just do the song once more, okay?"  
  
Four heads nodded, bitterly.  
  
"Okay. Andy, give me a steady beat, okay?"  
  
***  
  
"You okay, Davis?" Chad asked, as he sat down next to Roger on the side of the stage. Practice for the day was over, and everyone else had left.  
  
"Yeah. Why?" Roger asked him, frowning.  
  
"No reason. I'm just really nervous about the gig."  
  
"Why? We've had hundreds of gigs, Chad."  
  
"Yeah, but none like this one." Chad looked to see if anyone else was around before saying in a low voice, "I'm proposing to Karmine tomorrow night."  
  
Roger picked his head up. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah. Before we start the last song. That's why I need everything to be perfect, you understand?"  
  
Roger nodded.  
  
Chad sighed, contently. "So when are you and Mimi gonna tie the knot? You two've been together longer than Karmine and I have."  
  
Roger shrugged. "I haven't really thought about marriage."  
  
"Well, I'm not forcing you along or anything. It's something to do when you feel you're ready to do it." He stood up, zipping his guitar up into its case.  
  
"You need a ride, Roger?"  
  
"No, I'll walk. Thanks, though,"  
  
"No problem. I'll see you at the gig tomorrow."  
  
"See you," Roger said softly, as he left.  
  
He sat in silence for a moment, lost in thought, before finally standing up and grabbing his fender to leave. 


	17. Two To Tango

"Hey, Mark," Jan said, as she opened the door. "You know there's this new thing they've invented. They're called doorbells. You use them instead of knocking."  
  
"What? Oh yeah, sorry. Me and Roger don't have one of those. We need to update our pad."  
  
Jan laughed. "Well if you're still calling it a pad, you REALLY need to update it."  
  
Mark shrugged. "Pad, Schmad. Can I come in?"  
  
"Of course." She opened the door wider for him so he could step inside.  
  
"Did you have breakfast yet?"  
  
"I had an English muffin."  
  
"Ooh. Tasty."  
  
Mark shrugged. "What can I say, I eat like a bird." He walked over to the nearest chair and parked himself on it. "So tomorrow's The Well Hungarian's gig."  
  
"I heard."  
  
"You want to go together?"  
  
"You really have to ask, Mark?" Jan smiled at him.  
  
Mark chuckled.  
  
"How'd they get a name like that anyway?"  
  
"I have no idea. I remember we were just hanging around in the loft, and all of a sudden Roger sat up and said, 'Eureka! I've got it!'"  
  
Jan raised her eyebrow. "He really said that?"  
  
"Well no . . . but anyway, that's the name he came up with. Still have no idea where the hell it came from."  
  
"Well, all bands have weird names. You've got the Beatles, the Beach Boys, the Bangles."  
  
"So I see you like B's and hippie music?" Mark implored.  
  
Jan laughed. "It's not hippie music, Mark."  
  
"Is too."  
  
"Do you even know what a hippie is?"  
  
"It's someone who goes around listening to old boy bands with bad hair cuts."  
  
"Not exactly. Where's my dictionary?" Jan said, as she walked over to the bookshelf hanging above the counter.  
  
"Here we go . . . Hippie," she read, "A person who opposes and rejects many of the conventional standards and customs of society, especially one who advocates extreme liberalism in sociopolitical attitudes and lifestyles."  
  
"That's not a hippie," Mark said, once Jan had closed the book. "That's an anarchist."  
  
"Same thing."  
  
"Well, I'm an anarchist, and I don't listen to Hippie music."  
  
Jan sighed. "For the last time, Mark, the Beatles weren't hippies!"  
  
"You want a bet? Let's see the definition of a 'Beatle,'" Mark said, reopening the dictionary to a random page.  
  
"Beatle. One who has a terrible bowl-cut hair style, plays hippie music, and has hippie friends and band mates. Occasionally decorate their wardrobes in flowers and hearts." He closed the book and tossed it to Jan. "Beat that. No pun intended."  
  
"You're such a dork," Jan said, hiding a smile.  
  
"Well, yeah."  
  
"Are the Well Hungarians Hippies?"  
  
"Not that I know of. Except Matt maybe. He plays the acoustic guitar. He's got something crazy going on with his hair. But then again, so does Roger."  
  
Jan sighed and settled herself onto his lap. "Let's stop politicizing, okay?"  
  
"I thought you'd never ask," Mark grinned.  
  
"You wanna do something?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you want to go to St. Mark's?"  
  
"Why? You need new scarf?" Jan teased.  
  
"Nah." Mark picked up his camera. "I like to film around there."  
  
"Well in that cast, let me get my Polaroid before we go," Jan winked at him, as she hopped up from his lap to grab her camera.  
  
She returned a few moments later, dressed and camera in hand.  
  
"Ready?" she asked him.  
  
"Ready."  
  
***  
  
"Oh, Mark, I love it here," Jan gushed, as they walked by many "Salespeople" trying to sell them various items. Only a moment ago, a woman had walked up to Mark offering him a Vibrator.  
  
"You should have gotten it," Jan had joked.  
  
"Nah, I've got plenty back home," he'd replied, wrapping his arms around her.  
  
"Fur coat?" a bag lady now yelled out to Jan as they passed her.  
  
Jan stopped. "Is that real fur?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.  
  
"Helllllll no, girl. Where would I find something as fancy as that? Besides, if it were, I'd be keepin it for myself." She picked the coat back up, holding it out towards them. "Wanna try it on?"  
  
"Sure," Jan said, sliding her arms through the sleeves.  
  
Mark smothered a laugh as he watched Jan slink around in the coat. She looked like a Russian immigrant.  
  
"How much?" she asked the lady, to Mark's surprise.  
  
"Gimme thirty."  
  
"Twenty."  
  
"Twenty-Five."  
  
"Deal." Jan fished into her pocket for her wallet, and handed her a crinkled twenty dollar bill.  
  
"Thanks, honey. You wear that coat well, ya hear?"  
  
"I will. Thanks," Jan smiled. She hooked her arm through Mark's as they continued to walk down the alley.  
  
"Why'd you buy that?" Mark asked, frowning.  
  
"Why? You don't think it's hot?" Jan laughed. "I felt bad because when I stopped to look at it, she thought I was going to buy it. I didn't want to just walk away from it. Besides, it'll be an early Christmas present for my mother."  
  
Mark shook his head. "You might just be the most generous person I know. I just hope you don't go broke from buying everything everyone's selling."  
  
"I won't," Jan assured him.  
  
They walked by a man selling rip-off copies of books.  
  
"Well, here's something worth getting," Mark said, picking up a book. "A tale of two . . . WHAT? A tale of two titties???"  
  
"Can't you read?" the man grunted, pointing to the sign.  
  
Mark looked at the sign again and saw that in light pencil, someone had scrawled 'SPOOFED copies.'  
  
"Well, that's real noticeable," Mark mumbled, as Jan laughed. "I'll take it."  
  
Mark paid for the book, and he and Jan continued onwards, holding their sides from laughing.  
  
"You're not gonna really read that, are you?" Jan choked.  
  
"No," he giggled. "I'll give it to Roger."  
  
"Hypocrite," she teased.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You said you shouldn't buy something just because it's offered to you."  
  
Mark shrugged. "There are some acceptions."  
  
"Well, if you put it THAT way."  
  
Mark smirked and leaned over to kiss on the lips.  
  
The two of them were silent for a moment, pressed against each other. Then Jan pulled away.  
  
"People are looking," she murmured.  
  
"So?" he whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear.  
  
"I don't know." She shrugged.  
  
Mark took his camera out from his inner coat pocket and slowly panned across St. Mark's.  
  
"Zoom on Jan's beautiful face," he murmured.  
  
"Stop," she laughed, hiding her face behind her sleeve.  
  
"You are," he told her, pulling her hand away.  
  
"Whatever," she mumbled, leaning against him. "You ready to go home?"  
  
"You wanna leave already?"  
  
"No, but my ankle's starting to hurt again."  
  
"You want to lean against me?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Jan held onto Mark's arm as they made their way home.  
  
"Let's go to the loft," she said, as she snuggled up against him.  
  
"Alright," he said.  
  
Slowly, they trudged home.  
  
***  
  
"PEPPER! PEPPER WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Collins was shouting, as Mark and Jan neared the apartment.  
  
"What happened?" Mark asked, frowning.  
  
"This damned dog. She ran off and now she's hiding behind a car or something. Pepper!" he called, "If you want something to eat tonight, you better get your ass out here right now!"  
  
"That's not the way you get a dog to come to you, Collins," Jan laughed.  
  
She knelt down on her knees and whistled sharply. "Pepper? Come, sweetie. Daddy's looking for you."  
  
Sure enough, Pepper came scrambling from behind a garbage can, dragging her leash behind her.  
  
Mark and Collins watched, amazed, as Jan cooed to the dog.  
  
"Who's a good girl? You are, yes," she cooed.  
  
"How'd you get her to come to you?" Collins asked.  
  
"Well," Jan said, "Would you answer to someone threatening to beat your ass if you didn't come home, or someone who was loving and compassionate?"  
  
"Good point," said Collins, taking the neon pink leash from Jan. "I swear, you're going to be the end of me, girl," he said to Pepper.  
  
Pepper yipped.  
  
"See this is why me and Frankie aren't ready for kids yet," Collins sighed. "I can barely look after a dog."  
  
"You're just learning," said Jan. "You'll get better."  
  
Collins shrugged. "I guess so. But you don don't have to take a kid outside every morning on a leash to take a dump, do you?"  
  
"It depends," Jan said, and Mark laughed.  
  
"Well then. We'll see about you, my furry friend," he said to Pepper.  
  
Pepper turned her head at Collins, questioningly, and lifted her leg to pee on an old tire on the ground beside her.  
  
"Babies don't do that, do they?" Collins asked Mark.  
  
"I wouldn't know," Mark said.  
  
"Oh well. Well, we'll see you two later? Tomorrow at the gig?"  
  
"We'll see you there," said Mark.  
  
"Okay. Bye."  
  
Collins watched as Mark and Jan left.  
  
"They make a cute couple, don't they?" he asked Pepper.  
  
Pepper barked.  
  
"Shut up."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, baby," Mimi got up from the couch as Roger entered the Loft. She walked over to him and stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the lips. "How was practice?"  
  
"It was alright," Roger said, wrapping his arms around Mimi's waist and pulling her towards him.  
  
"Was it really?"  
  
"Well Chad forgot to take his Midol. But he's really antsy about the gig because he's going to propose to Karmine tomorrow."  
  
Mimi raised her eyebrows. "Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
"I hardly ever see Karmine," Mimi commented.  
  
Roger shrugged. "Well if they're ready to be married then they must see each other a lot."  
  
"We see each other a lot," Mimi said, a small smile coming over her face.  
  
Roger laughed, nervously. "You think I'm ready to be a groom?"  
  
"You'd look pretty sexy and a tux."  
  
"Thanks. You wouldn't look to shabby in a veil yourself."  
  
"Thanks, baby."  
  
"No problem." He kissed her on the ear. "So, you have any plans?"  
  
Mimi shook her head. "No, I've got a free afternoon."  
  
"So do I," he said, grinning wickedly.  
  
Mimi quirked an eyebrow. "You hinting at something?"  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"Okay, you win," she laughed.  
  
"Yay!" Roger scooped Mimi into his arms, and walked into the bedroom, dropping her down onto the other side of the bed.  
  
"You're in a good mood," Mimi said as Roger tugged at her foot, trying to pull off her sock.  
  
"Why shouldn't I be? I've got all the time in the world for my girlfriend, I've got a gig coming up tomorrow. Everything's dandy."  
  
"Dandy?" Mimi said, as Roger struggled with her socks. "Since when do you use that word?"  
  
"Since now," he said. "Jesus Christ, Mimi, did you glue these to your feet?"  
  
He stood up on the bed and yanked her feet, pulling Mimi up as well.  
  
"Stop!" she giggled, as he began to tickle her feet. She squirmed out of her socks and balled them up, tossing them at Roger's face.  
  
Roger picked them up and put them in his mouth, waggling his eyebrows, pretending to be holding a rose between his teeth.  
  
"Gross, Roger, I put those on my feet," Mimi complained.  
  
"What? It's a new theme. Yesterday was Shakespeare. Today's Tango."  
  
"You're a retard," Mimi declared.  
  
"Am not." He reached over and pushed her shirt up, and began to tickle her stomach.  
  
"ROGER!'  
  
"Yes, Miss Marquez?" he asked, as Mimi squirmed underneath him.  
  
"You bastard," Mimi cried, giggling.  
  
"Say Uncle."  
  
"What? No!" she choked, as he began tickling her sides.  
  
"Say it."  
  
"Uncle! Now stop, you pervert!"  
  
"You win," Roger said, giving her a final poke in her navel.  
  
Mimi sat up, gasping for breath.  
  
"You're . . . such a dork," she gasped, unable to hide a smile.  
  
Roger smiled. "I know you are, but what am I?"  
  
Mimi giggled. Then she became serious for a moment. "Roger, I talked to Isabella about visiting my mom tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow? What about the gig?"  
  
"In the morning, not the night."  
  
"Oh." He paused. "What about Joel?"  
  
"Isabella said his work hour starts at eight and ends at six in the evening. That would give me a lot of time to spend with my mother."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"You'll come with me, right?"  
  
"Of course I will. Do you really have to ask?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "I just wanted to make sure."  
  
Roger kissed her on the cheek. "So, we're going to La Casa De Marquez?"  
  
"Si. Good Spanish, by the way," Mimi laughed.  
  
"It's my second language."  
  
"Mierda del toro."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
Roger laughed. "You don't believe me?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Oh well. Haven't spoken it in ages, anyway."  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes.  
  
"Anyway, you know what they say," Roger said, pulling her down beside him, "You Panamanians DO have more fun!"  
  
a/n: Okay, that last line was Corny. Coming up soon: Mimi reunites with her madre, and someone else, the gig, Maureen's gallery, and more! Reviews are almost as fun as the Bang-Bang Theory! 


	18. Clipped Wings

Roger woke up the next morning to the sound of the phone ringing in the other room.  
  
Groaning, he sat up in bed, wincing as the bright light entered his eyes.  
  
He looked over at Mimi, who was facing the other wall, still asleep.  
  
Roger rubbed his eyes and forced himself out of bed, stumbling into the other room to answer the phone.  
  
He entered the kitchen and blindly swiped the phone out of its cradle.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Morning, Roger."  
  
"Chad? What the fuck are you doing? It's five in the morning," Roger grumbled.  
  
"Well, hello, sunshine. The guys are having an early practice today. We're gonna go down to CBGB's at six and practice through five in the morning. You game?"  
  
"Shit," Roger mumbled.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I promised Mimi . . ."  
  
"Whatever you promised her can wait, Roger. This is really important. I'm PROPOSING to my girlfriend tonight, remember? I want to make sure everything is perfect."  
  
Roger let out a long sigh.  
  
"Please, Roger? Can I count on you to be there?"  
  
"Can't I come later?"  
  
"No, Roger, either you're in, or you're out. The gig's TONIGHT. And we didn't have that much practice time anyway. You only propose once, Roger."  
  
Roger was at a loss. "Mimi's going to kill me . . ."  
  
"She'll live. She'll see you up there tonight and forgive you for whatever it is. Can you be over here in half an hour?"  
  
"Fine," Roger mumbled.  
  
"Great! I knew I could count on you, Rog. See you in a few."  
  
"Bye," Roger said faintly, but the phone had already clicked.  
  
Sighing, he tore out a piece of scrap paper and scrawled in black pen;  
  
Mimi-  
  
The guys and I are having a last limit practice. I can't back out. Chad's proposing tonight and he needs everything to be all set. I'm real sorry baby- I'll make it up to you. I promise  
  
-Roger  
  
He taped the note on the wall opposite of the bedroom, so Mimi would see it when she got up.  
  
Then, quietly, he got dressed, grabbed his fender, and headed over to Chad's place.  
  
***  
  
"Fuck!" Mark heard Mimi shout from the kitchen.  
  
"What is it?" he asked, poking his head inside.  
  
"Roger left to go practice with the guys." Mimi shook her head. "I can't believe him. He promised me he'd go with me to visit my mom."  
  
"Well, you know Roger," Mark said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "He thinks he always needs to be there for the band. Sometimes he forgets he has other responsibilities."  
  
"But he PROMISED me," Mimi whispered. "Last night, he reassured me like fifty times."  
  
Mark frowned. "I'm sorry, Meems. I'd go with you but me and Jan already made plans for this morning. And Isabella took Daisha out for brunch. You could always go a different time with Roger."  
  
"No," Mimi sighed. "If I don't do it now, I'll never do it. Isabella gave me the address. I'll go myself."  
  
"Are you sure?" Mark asked her.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alright," he shrugged, as he took a sip from his glass. "But no one's forcing you to go today."  
  
"I know. I'm going to go get dressed."  
  
Mimi left the room, and a few moments later returned wearing her old carpet- bag coat over a tight black dress, and a scarf.  
  
Mark raised his eyebrows. "You're gonna wear that to your mom's?"  
  
"By the time I get back it'll be time for the gig to start," Mimi told him. "I have more time this way."  
  
"Oh." He rinsed his glass out into the sink.  
  
Mimi crumpled a piece of paper on which Isabella had written directions for her in her coat pocket.  
  
"Do you want me to get Maureen or Joanne to drive you?"  
  
"Nah, thanks anyway. I'll take the subway."  
  
"If you're sure."  
  
"Mark, I'm fine, don't worry about it. I'll be back in time for the gig to start.'  
  
"Alright. Good luck."  
  
"Thanks," she said, smiling, giving him a quick hug.  
  
"If Roger calls, tell him where I am, okay?"  
  
"Got it."  
  
"See you later, Mark."  
  
"See you."  
  
Mimi closed the door quietly behind her.  
  
***  
  
Mimi had to go on four different subways to get to her destination. After she exited the final one, she quickly jogged up the stairs, immediately greeted by smog.  
  
It wasn't a nice looking neighborhood, Mimi thought to herself. She'd expected somewhere a bit less isolated, since Joel now had a new job.  
  
She walked quickly, glancing every now and then down at the slip of paper Isabella had given her to make sure she was going the wrong way.  
  
Finally, she stopped in front of an old apartment building. The windows had wooden boards nailed across them, and there were three garbage cans turned over on their sides, filth sprawled across the street. It didn't look like anyone had made much of an effort to clean it up.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Mimi walked up the rusting stairs, and knocked on the door once, then twice.  
  
An older woman answered the door, and although Mimi hadn't seen her mother in five years, she knew it wasn't her.  
  
"Yes?" the woman said, coldly.  
  
"I- Does Conchita Marquez live here?" Mimi stammered.  
  
"One moment." The woman turned her head and yelled, "Conchita! Someone to see you!"  
  
"Coming!"  
  
Mimi's heart fluttered as she heard her mother's voice.  
  
She heard her footsteps coming closer, and finally she appeared in the doorway beside the other woman.  
  
Mimi saw that she had indeed aged. But she was still the woman that Mimi had always known, loved, and depended on.  
  
"Hello," Mimi's mother looked at her, her eye's straining with sudden recognition.  
  
Mimi took a deep breath. "Mama, it's me. Mimi."  
  
"Mimi?" her mother's voice became a choked whisper.  
  
"Yes . . . Isabella gave me your address . . . and I wanted to see you again."  
  
"Mimi. Usted ha venido en casa. You've come home."  
  
"I have, Mama," Mimi whispered.  
  
"Ah, Mimi, yo lo he perdido tanto."  
  
"I've missed you too, Mama."  
  
Mimi's mother's eyes welled up in tears.  
  
"Come inside, Chica," she whispered. She turned to the anonymous woman next to her.  
  
"Rosa. ¿Trae algo beber para mi hija, por favor?"  
  
"Bueno." The woman turned and left, leaving Mimi and her mother alone.  
  
Conchita led Mimi, holding onto her hand.  
  
"Come, sit, Mimi," she whispered, settling onto the couch beside her daughter.  
  
"Tell me, Chica. Where have you been all this time?"  
  
Preparing to talk for a long time, Mimi told Conchita about Roger, Mark, Collins, Angel, Maureen, Joanne, and Benny.  
  
She told her about her disease, and how she and Roger were helping each other move on.  
  
She told her about how she had come to meet Isabella and Daisha again, and then how she wanted to come visit her afterwards.  
  
Conchita listened, shaking her head in amazement.  
  
"It's been a long time indeed, Maria," she said, using Mimi's given name.  
  
For once, Mimi didn't mind.  
  
"I know," Mimi whispered. "I should have called, or wrote to you . . . or SOMETHING. I shouldn't have just left you all worrying."  
  
"Es bien, Mimi. You're here now, aren't you? That's all that matters." Conchita kissed Mimi on top of her head, and Mimi closed her eyes. She felt like a little girl again.  
  
Suddenly she wanted to be eight years old again. She wanted to be able to cry, and be comforted and kissed by her mother. She wanted to feel the shelter of a family again.  
  
"No llore, Chica. No tears. There is only happiness now. I thought I'd never see you again," Conchita sighed, pulling Mimi close to her.  
  
"So did I," Mimi whispered. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry."  
  
"For what, Chica? You did nothing."  
  
"For making you worry, for burdening all of you."  
  
"You have your own wings, Chica. They take you places, and you cannot help that. It is of your own free will. You cannot overcome your desire to be free."  
  
"I know," Mimi sniffled. "But I'm still sorry."  
  
"Apologies are accepted, although they are not needed. Here, have some tea, Chica," Conchita said, as Rosa returned with the tray.  
  
Mimi took a long sip of the hot tea, and cleared her throat.  
  
"Where are you living now, Mimi?"  
  
"With my boyfriend and his roommate. On the corner of avenue A and B."  
  
"And Daisha is with you?"  
  
"Yes," Mimi said, guiltily.  
  
Conchita sighed. "It's not her. It's Joel. He makes us all do crazy things."  
  
"Do you love him?" Mimi whispered.  
  
Conchita looked up, surprised. ¿Qué?  
  
"Do you love him, Mama?"  
  
Before Conchita could answer, the sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted her thoughts.  
  
"Dave let me go early today," a gruff voice came from the hallway.  
  
Mimi's heart dropped as she recognized the voice.  
  
She heard his footsteps entering the living room.  
  
"Well, well," Joel said, recognizing her immediately. "Look what the cat dragged in."  
  
***  
  
"Anyone home?" Roger called, as he pushed the door to the loft open.  
  
"Mimi? Mark?"  
  
"Hey, Rog," said Mark, who was sitting with Jan in front of the TV, not watching anything in particular.  
  
"Mimi went to see her mom."  
  
"Was she upset?" Roger asked, nervously.  
  
"She was pretty pissed off. But I think she'll be alright."  
  
"How as practice?" Jan asked Roger.  
  
"It was alright. But if they made Midol for men- I would pay for all of Chad's prescriptions."  
  
Mark laughed. "That bad?"  
  
"Yeah. But you can't blame him. I mean, he IS proposing to his girlfriend tonight. He wants everything to be perfect."  
  
"Yeah," Mark said, staring blankly at the screen.  
  
"I'm going to go lie down quickly before the gig tonight," Roger announced, turning to leave.  
  
Suddenly, they all heard the doorknob slowly opening, and Mimi quietly stepped in.  
  
"Mimi," Roger said softly, walking over to her. "I'm so sorry about today, it's just Chad was bitching to me about how he needed me, and how he needs everything to be perfect for Karmine, and I wanted to come with you but I was just being pulled in two different directions . . ."  
  
"It's fine, Roger," Mimi said, softly, not looking at him.  
  
"Don't be like that, Mimi," Roger pleaded. "Could you at least look at me?"  
  
"I'm going to go take a shower," she in a quiet voice.  
  
"Mimi, please," Roger begged, holding onto her arm, preventing her from leaving.  
  
Mimi winced as he grabbed her arm, and Roger looked and saw why.  
  
There were deep red marks on both of Mimi's arms, starting at the wrists, and ending at her elbows.  
  
"Leave me alone, Roger," Mimi wrenched away from him.  
  
Roger put a hand on her shoulder, and she whipped around, eyeing him angrily.  
  
Roger' eyes widened in shock, and Mimi tried to hide her face behind her hand as she ran into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.  
  
But Roger had already seen the bruises. 


	19. Hiding the Pain

"Mimi, what happened? Let me in!" Roger banged his fists against the door, repeatedly.  
  
"Just go away, Roger!" Mimi yelled from the other side of the door.  
  
"Mimi, would you just fucking talk to me?" Roger exclaimed. "What happened?"  
  
Mimi sighed and slowly sank to her knees, leaning her head against the door.  
  
"Mimi?"  
  
***  
  
"Joel," Conchita said softly, standing to her feet.  
  
"Save it, Conchita," he growled, softly. "Did you know where she was all this time? Or did she just appear on your doorstep like some stray dog?"  
  
"Stop it, Joel," Conchita said, through gritted teeth.  
  
"You've been hiding things from me, haven't you? I bet you knew where Daisha has been all this time too."  
  
Anger flashed in his eyes. "You think these games are funny?"  
  
"Joel, please," Conchita begged, trying to make him listen.  
  
"Shut up, Conchita. You're just a fucking bother, anyway."  
  
"Fuck you, Joel."  
  
"WHAT did you say to me?" he demanded, turning to face Mimi.  
  
"You heard what I said," Mimi snapped, her fists clenching.  
  
"Yeah, I heard what you said," Joel growled, walking towards her. "I heard you mouthing off to me. That's the way it always was, wasn't it? You girls at the public school would go off and have a good fuck, and then come back just in time to talk shit to their parents. Is that it?"  
  
"Joel, PLEASE," Conchita pleaded, horrified and both admirable of her daughter's bravery.  
  
"You aren't my father. You never were," Mimi hissed.  
  
"You better watch it, bitch," Joel warned.  
  
"No YOU better watch it! Daisha told me the reason why she left home. You were hitting her AND you're a perverted drunk. How do you think the police would like it if I told them you were committing sexual harassment?"  
  
"Is that what she told you?" Joel growled, grabbing her by her upper arms, is nails digging into her skin, glaring down at her. He was a full head taller than her.  
  
Mimi looked right back at him. She was tired of being pushed around by him.  
  
"Didn't I always tell you you were going to get it if you kept talking smack to people?"  
  
"All that ever came out of your mouth was shit, Joel. You treat my mother, my sisters, and me like shit. That's what you ARE. You're just a worthless piece of shit.  
  
Mimi saw her mother's terrified look out of the corner of her eye.  
  
"You're really asking for it this time," Joel snickered, and without warning, his hand came up out of nowhere, connecting roughly with her cheekbone.  
  
"JOEL! ¡PARADA! STOP!" Conchita screamed, but Joel pushed her away.  
  
Wearily, Mimi raised her hand to touch her stinging cheek, lightly.  
  
"Bastardo," she mumbled, and then raised her fist to strike HIM. But Joel was too quick for her. He grabbed her wrist before she could make contact with his face, and twisted it painfully behind her back.  
  
"Now you listen," he hissed. "I don't want to see you here ever again. I want you to go straight home, and tell that little two-faced sister of yours to get her ass home, or else. Do you understand?" he demanded, yanking her arm up, making her knees buckle from under her.  
  
"DO YOU?"  
  
"Joel, por favor," Conchita had started to sob. At that moment, Rosa had entered the room too see what all the commotion was, and she stood in the doorway, her mouth open in shock.  
  
"Fuck you Joel," Mimi said, through gritted teeth, her eyes tearing with the pain.  
  
"You just don't get it. You and your mother. Las rameras."  
  
With that, he gave a disgusted grunt, and forcefully shoved her against the wall, banging her head in the process.  
  
Mimi huddled against the wall, holding her head and closing her eyes tightly, trying to bear the searing pain in her head.  
  
"I can't take this now," Joel mumbled. "I need a drink."  
  
Mimi heard his footsteps running out the front door, and then she heard it slam behind him.  
  
The sound of the door slamming seemed to make Conchita snap out of the trance she was in, and she rushed to Mimi's side.  
  
"Chica," she murmured. ¿Usted es bien?Are you hurt?"  
  
"I don't think so," Mimi mumbled, running her head with the back of her hand, ignoring the pain. She seemed to be losing a lot of brain cells lately this week.  
  
"You're brave, Mimi," Conchita whispered, shaking her head. "Brave, but crazy. What were you thinking? You know how crazy he gets."  
  
"I'm tired of fearing him, Mama," Mimi said, in a tired voice. "You don't like to admit it, but I know he treats you badly. I hate him," she spat.  
  
"But you can't fight him, Chica. He's a stubborn crazy soul. And he can be dangerous. You shouldn't taunt him like that."  
  
"I know," Mimi said, "But I'm just tired of being the weakling all the time. I needed to stand up to him."  
  
"Even if it would get you killed?"  
  
Mimi shrugged.  
  
Conchita sighed. "Usted es muy valiente, Mimi. Muy loco."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mama."  
  
"I'm sorry too, Chica," Conchita whispered, as she wrapped her arms tightly around her daughter.  
  
***  
  
"That fucker. I'll murder him!" Roger practically shouted.  
  
Mimi opened the door, finally allowing him to see her.  
  
"There's nothing you can do, Roger," she said, sadly.  
  
"If I ever see him," Roger promised. "He's a dead man."  
  
He walked over to her, tipping her head back gently, and lightly touched the tender area on her face where Joel had hit her with his fingers.  
  
"Roger, please," Mimi whispered, bringing his hand down.  
  
"I should have been with you. If I had come with you, like I promised, none of this would have ever happened."  
  
"None of what, Roger? Even if you had come, Joel still would have been there. And you wouldn't have stopped me from saying those things to him. He needed to hear it from me."  
  
"But I could have stopped him . . . from hurting you."  
  
"Roger, I'm fine. It's just a scratch," Mimi lied.  
  
"It's not just a scratch, Mimi. And you said you hit your head on the wall? Do you want me to take you to a hospital?"  
  
"Stop fucking babying me," Mimi snapped, suddenly. "I don't need to go to the hospital. Besides, you have your gig now. I can't get in the way of that." She said the last part sarcastically.  
  
"Mimi, if I had known what was going to happen, I never would have gone to practice."  
  
"Of course you wouldn't have, Roger," she said, in a tired voice. "But it was bound to happen sooner or later. I can't keep hiding from him all my life. I've got skeletons in my closet, as do you. Everyone does."  
  
"I could have protected you though," he said, helplessly.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "Stop blaming yourself. It was my choice to go on my own." She walked over to the mirror above Roger's dresser, touching the bruise on her cheek gently.  
  
"I'm going to have to borrow concealer from Maureen. Unless Daisha has some with her."  
  
"You still want to go to the gig?" Roger asked, surprised.  
  
"Of course I do, Roger. Why wouldn't I?"  
  
"Because . . . you're hurt," Roger said, lamely.  
  
"I'll be fine. Besides, you need to be there for Chad in the others, don't you?"  
  
Roger nodded his head, helplessly.  
  
Mimi forced a smile. "Can you go ask Daisha if she has any concealer? I don't want her to see me, because I don't want her to ask any questions."  
  
"What am I supposed to tell her?"  
  
"Tell her I have a really nasty pimple."  
  
"You never get pimples."  
  
Mimi shrugged. "You've gotta tell her something."  
  
"Alright," Roger said, leaving the room for a moment. When he returned a moment later, he handed the concealer to Mimi.  
  
"Thanks," she said, as she began to lightly dab it onto her face.  
  
"Welcome. Are you going to get changed before the gig?"  
  
"No. I was going to wear this dress tonight anyway. I'll just fix my hair up and I'll be fine." She turned to him. "Can you see it?"  
  
Roger shook his head. "Nope. It's covered."  
  
"Good." Mimi shoved the concealer into her coat pocket.  
  
"Mimi, you don't need to put on a brave face."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You don't need to be brave for me. What Joel did was serious. You're acting like nothing happened."  
  
"It's really not a big deal, Rog," she insisted. "He used to hit me when I was a kid, too. I'm used to it."  
  
"If that's the case, then there's REALLY something wrong with him," Roger exclaimed.  
  
Mimi sighed. "Joel's Joel. He's a fuck."  
  
"How does your mother put up with him?"  
  
"Honestly, I don't know. And I didn't want to ask her. She was upset enough by what happened." Mimi glanced at the alarm clock by Roger's side of the bed.  
  
"Shit, Roger, we've gotta be down there by eight so you can have a last minute practice with the guys, remember?"  
  
"I remember."  
  
"So tell Mark and Jan to come on. We're going to be late." She walked past him, and into the other room.  
  
Roger bit his lip, and followed her out the door.  
  
a/n: Well, how do you like that? More A)Bang-Bang. I don't know how violence always finds its way to my stories. Anyway, this chapter was a bit shorter than the others, but still. Review, tell me what you think ;) 


	20. Happy Beginnings

"There's no goddamn room in here," Mark grumbled.  
  
Mark, Jan, Mimi, Roger, Daisha, Frankie, and Collins were all squished into Frankie's car.  
  
"If you like, Mark, we could put you in the trunk," Jan teased.  
  
"No thank you," Mark mumbled.  
  
"Chill out Mark, we'll be there in like fifteen minutes," Collins said from the front seat.  
  
"Aren't Maureen and Joanne coming?" Frankie asked, her hands gripped tightly on the wheel.  
  
"They are," Mimi said, quickly, leaving out the part about Jimmy. "They're meeting us there. So is Isabella."  
  
"How do you know?" Roger asked her, his arm around her.  
  
"Joanne told me." Mimi then let out a sigh and looked out the window.  
  
Roger watched her; his heart felt as if it was being torn into a thousand pieces. He knew Mimi still felt terrible about what had happened, and Roger felt awful about not being there to protect her.  
  
He reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.  
  
Mimi looked at him and gave a small smile.  
  
"You okay?" Roger asked, softly.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
Mimi let out an exasperated sigh. "Roger, lay off, will you?"  
  
"I'm just worried about you, Meems," Roger said, hurt.  
  
"Well don't worry about me. Worry about yourself." And with that she turned back to the window.  
  
Frustrated, Roger ran a hand through his freshly gelled head. He hoped he would be able to keep his mind on the music tonight, instead of fretting about Mimi.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Roger, you brought the whole gang. You remember Karmine, right?" Chad gestured to the pretty Latina girl beside him.  
  
"Sure I do. And this is Mimi, Mark, Jan, Daisha, Frankie, and Collins," Roger said, automatically.  
  
"Nice to meet you," Chad said to Frankie, Daisha and Jan. He already knew Mark and Collins.  
  
"So Roger, you want to go through some of the songs together with the guys? So we can get it right?" he asked, jerking his head toward Karmine, trying not to be too obvious.  
  
"Sure," said Roger.  
  
He turned to Mimi. "I'll see you later, alright?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Roger turned to the others. "I'll see you guys after?"  
  
"Sure, Roger," Mark said. "Good luck."  
  
"Thanks. I'm gonna need it."  
  
"No you're not," Chad said, quickly. "Everything's gonna be perfect."  
  
Karmine gave him a weird look.  
  
"Um, let's go backstage," Chad said, nervously. He and Roger left.  
  
"So you're Roger's girlfriend?" Karmine said to Mimi.  
  
Mimi nodded.  
  
"Lucky. He seems like a nice guy."  
  
"So does Chad."  
  
"Yeah, he is," Karmine said, smiling shyly.  
  
"You guys want us to save some seats up front?" Collins asked, referring to he and Frankie.  
  
"Yes, that'd be great. Thanks Collins," Mark said.  
  
"No problem," Collins winked. Taking Frankie's arm, the two of them walked to the front near the stage.  
  
"You excited?" Mark asked Jan.  
  
Jan nodded, eagerly. "Yeah, I've never really been to one of these things before. The most concert music I've ever heard was at a wedding," she laughed.  
  
"Wow, um . . . that's hardcore."  
  
"Shut up," she nudged him, playfully.  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
Jan shook her head, trying not to smile. "So is anyone else you know coming besides Maureen, Joanne and Isabella?"  
  
"Roger's old roommate, Mitch is coming. And his wife, Karen."  
  
"Anyone else?"  
  
"Um . . . Jimmy's coming with Maureen and Joanne."  
  
"JIMMY'S coming?" Jan exclaimed.  
  
"Shhh- not so loud!" Mark said, making sure Mimi didn't hear.  
  
"Well, Roger's going to LOVE that," Jan said, sarcastically.  
  
"He's going to sit near the back. Roger'll never know he was there."  
  
"And that's everyone you know?"  
  
"And me," a painfully familiar voice said from behind them.  
  
"Fuck. What are you doing here, Benny?" Mark demanded.  
  
"Well I can enjoy a little quality music now and then, can't I? Oh, sorry- did I say quality?" Benny sneered.  
  
"Where's Steph?" Mark asked, in a mocking tone.  
  
"Blew things off with her. Too young for me. Started to get on my nerves."  
  
Mark rolled his eyes.  
  
"So I see you've got a new piece of meat, then?"  
  
Jan glared at him.  
  
"Not bad. Though I could have probably done better."  
  
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Mark asked, impatiently.  
  
"I just told you. I came here to hear some music. Where's the rest of the gang?"  
  
"They're coming."  
  
"Oh. Hey, Mimi," he called out.  
  
Mimi turned at the sound of her name, and then groaned unpleasantly when she saw who it was.  
  
"Where's pretty boy?"  
  
"ROGER is backstage," she said, through gritted teeth. "He's practicing."  
  
"Yeah, he needs to," Benny laughed.  
  
"Asshole," Mimi muttered, and turned around to continue talking to Karmine.  
  
"I bet he and Jimmy would make great friends," Jan said to Mark.  
  
Mark groaned. "I couldn't even stand TWO of them."  
  
"Well, I'm going to get myself something to drink. I'll see you kiddies later?"  
  
"Whatever, Benny. Just leave us alone"  
  
"Touchy. You like that in a guy?" Benny asked, directing his question at Jan.  
  
"Just get your drink," she snapped.  
  
"Tough crowd," Benny mumbled, heading for the bar.  
  
"God, he's such a pain in the ass. I can't believe we used to me roommates."  
  
"You were roommates with HIM?" Jan exclaimed.  
  
"Well, me, Roger, Benny, Collins and Maureen. That was when Maureen and I were dating."  
  
"Weird," Jan said, shaking her head.  
  
"Yeah. You wanna go get our seats?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
***  
  
"Mark, sit DOWN! They're about to start!" Maureen, sitting beside Joanne hissed at Mark.  
  
Mark had been ordered by Roger and Chad to make sure Karmine was sitting near the front of the stage, and he was doing so now. She had taken a seat in between Mimi and Daisha.  
  
Isabella had arrived a little while ago as well, and was sitting behind them.  
  
Mark couldn't find Jimmy, but that was a good thing, he decided, as he took a his seat next to Jan.  
  
"Hi, Mimi."  
  
Mimi looked up.  
  
It was Mitch, accompanied by Karen, who in her last couple of months of being pregnant, was very large.  
  
"Hey, Mitch. Guys, this is Roger's old roommate Mitch, and his wife, Karen," Mimi told the others.  
  
"Hi," they all said back.  
  
"Hey Mark!" Mitch exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in years, You haven't changed a bit."  
  
"Is that a good thing?" Mark joked.  
  
"Nah, you're still a great guy."  
  
"Oh, well that's good. How are you, Karen?" Mark asked  
  
Karen smiled. "How do I look? No, I'm great, actually. Mitch brought me along because he thought it would give the kid a good music sense."  
  
"Boy or girl?" Maureen asked.  
  
"Girl," Karen declared, proudly. "We're calling her Eva."  
  
"That's pretty," Mimi said, smiling. "Congratulations."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"Well, we're gonna go get seats. We'll see you guys after the show?"  
  
"Yeah. You better hurry though, they're just about to start," said Mark.  
  
"Alright. See you guys later," Mitch said, and he and Karen disappeared behind the crowd.  
  
Mark was surprised that so many people had come. But then again, The Well Hungarians had grown very popular over the past year.  
  
The crowd began to cheer and hoot as the band members walked onstage, and took their places.  
  
"Hey guys!" Chad yelled over the mike. "How're you all doing tonight?"  
  
He was answered by more screaming.  
  
"Sounds like a party. Anyway, you know the guys- Roger Davis on lead guitar, Andy Rodriguez on the drums, Stu Earl on the keys, Matt Kaplan on the acoustic. And you all know I'm the lead guitarist and singer, I presume?"  
  
The audience screeched loudly.  
  
"Alright. This first song you all know if you've been to our gigs before- it's called 'Heartsick. Andy, give me a beat . . ."  
  
***  
  
About eight songs later, when the screaming had died down, Chad handed the mike to Roger.  
  
"Um, hey guys," Roger said, abashedly.  
  
A bunch of girls began to howl, making Mimi smile.  
  
"Okay, this is a song I'm going to do by myself, with Stu on the keyboard. I haven't played it at any gigs before, and I hadn't planned to sing it before tonight. It's called 'Your Eyes.' This one's for you, babe," he said, smiling at Mimi, who was in the first row.  
  
Mimi blushed.  
  
Roger slung his fender over his shoulder, and softly began to play the first couple of chords, and began to sing, as Stu quietly played the keyboard along with him.  
  
"You can see it in my eyes," Roger finished the song, smiling at Mimi.  
  
Mimi clapped loudly, along with the others.  
  
"Are you alright?" Daisha asked Mimi, who was rubbing a hand against her eye.  
  
"I'm fine. Just got something in my eye."  
  
"Right," Daisha laughed, and turned back to the stage.  
  
"That was great!" Chad exclaimed, as Roger handed the mike back to him. "Roger Davis, everybody. Alright, this last song we haven't written ourselves, but we thought it would be appropriate for tonight. You guys have all heard 'L-O-V-E,' right?"  
  
The audience began to chuckle, and Karmine laughed.  
  
"No, I'm serious. I said to the guys, "Hey, listen, I really think we should include this song- bring it down a bit, you know? Okay, so this version is a bit different from the one you've all heard, but I hope you like it just as much. Okay, here it goes. You know what to do, Andy."  
  
Andy began to tap out a steady beat on the drums, and Chad began to sing.  
  
"L is for the way she looks at me, O is for the only one I see, V is very, very, extraordinary, E is even more than anyone one that you adore, so Love, is the one and only game for us- Love- it's the only way I trust. Baby, can't you see, that you're the only one for me, 'cause love was made for me and you." Chad knelt down onstage in front of Karmine, withdrawing a small black velvet box from his pocket.  
  
The audience gasped, and Karmine's mouth gaped open in shock.  
  
"Hey, Karma. I know this is an unusual way of asking . . . but babe, would you marry me?"  
  
The crowd grew quiet, patiently waiting for Karmine's answer.  
  
"Yes," Karmine said, softly, her eyes beginning to tear.  
  
"Yes," she said, louder, "I'll marry you."  
  
The audience howled, and Chad reached out his hand, helping Karmine up onstage.  
  
The two of them kissed, oblivious to the screaming audience.  
  
"That's so sweet," Maureen whispered to Joanne, dabbing at her eyes.  
  
"That could be you and Roger," Daisha whispered to Mimi, who was smiling happily at Chad and Karmine.  
  
She frowned. "Daisha, hush."  
  
"Why? It's true. You two should get married."  
  
Mimi shrugged.  
  
"She's right," Isabella said from in back of them, overhearing their conversation.  
  
"Jeez, would you guys let me alone? I'll know when the time is right."  
  
"Well, you'd better hurry up- don't keep him waiting," Isabella teased, and she started to clap again for Chad and Karmine, who were kissing, passionately.  
  
Roger saw Mimi looking at him from onstage, and blew her a kiss.  
  
Giggling, Mimi reached out a hand, and pretended to place it in her pocket.  
  
"Congratulations, Chad Richards and Karmine Perez!" Roger cried, patting Chad on the back.  
  
"Thanks, pal," Chad said, grinning.  
  
***  
  
It was one in the morning, and the audience had slowly left, but not before congratulating Karmine and Chad one by one; the two of which were leaning against the stage, their arms wrapped around each other.  
  
Matt, Stu, and Andy were packing up the equipment.  
  
Roger hopped offstage so that he was beside Mimi.  
  
"How'd you like is?" he asked, kissing her on the cheek.  
  
"You guys were great," she smiled, returning the kiss.  
  
"What'd you think of my song? I worked with Stu on it and we added those piano chords in it."  
  
"It was beautiful, Rog." She turned to look at Chad and Karmine. "They make a great couple."  
  
"They do," Roger agreed.  
  
"You're a great friend to him, Roger. For helping him out with this, I mean."  
  
"It was nothing," Roger shrugged.  
  
"Hey, Rog, nice playing- not too shabby," Jimmy came up behind Roger, slapping him on the shoulder.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here?" Roger demanded, rubbing his shoulder.  
  
"Maureen and Joanne didn't tell you? I came to join the party."  
  
Roger glared at Maureen.  
  
"I would have told you, but I didn't want you to freak," she said, lamely.  
  
"I've gotta get some sleep. I have some clients I have to attend to tomorrow.  
  
"Clients?" Roger snorted. "More like whores."  
  
"Oh? You mean like yours?" Jimmy replied, looking at Mimi. "Ow!" he cried, as Maureen slapped him across the face.  
  
"Learn when to keep your mouth shut, Jimmy," she growled.  
  
Jimmy rubbed his jaw. "Christ. I'm out of here before things get crazy. Take a chill pill, or a Midol or something, Mo." With that he turned and left.  
  
"Not bad," said another voice, and they turned to see Benny.  
  
"What is this? Attack of the Assholes?" Roger exclaimed.  
  
"Hey, I was trying to give you a compliment, don't be like that," Benny complained. "You guys were good. Surprisingly."  
  
"Thanks, I guess," said Roger.  
  
"No problem. I've gotta get some sleep too. See you around."  
  
"I guess all Assholes have their day," Roger said, once he had left.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "I still don't like him."  
  
"Roger! You guys were fucking off the hook!" Mitch yelled, coming over to them, with Karen behind him.  
  
Karen placed her ears on her stomach. "Daddy didn't say that, sweetie."  
  
"Hey, Mitch, glad you could make it," Roger grinned at Mitch.  
  
"You kidding? I wouldn't miss this for anything. I remember those wild campus parties where you guys played."  
  
"Sounds like you were quite the party animal," Mimi teased Roger.  
  
"I WAS," he declared, poking her in the side.  
  
"Hey, Roger, we're going to head out," Maureen said. "I'll see you at the gallery tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Okay. By Mo. By Joanne."  
  
"Bye," they said in unison, and left.  
  
"Oh yeah, you guys want to come to Maureen's gallery tomorrow? It's at four."  
  
"I love art galleries," Karen said.  
  
"I'm pretty sure we don't have anything planned, but I'll double check on that," Mitch said. "But of course we'll come! I'll see you around, Roger. Call me sometime, okay?"  
  
"Got it," said Roger.  
  
"You too, Mark."  
  
"Bye Mitch," said Mark.  
  
"Bye Mimi. Bye guys," they waved at the others, and they too, left.  
  
"Roger, I'm going to stay at Jan's tonight. Frankie and Collins will give us a ride. We're gonna drop of Isabella and Daisha too. You want to come?"  
  
"You want to go?" Roger asked Mimi.  
  
"Nah, I'll walk."  
  
"Okay. We'll see you guys tomorrow."  
  
"And then there were two," Mimi had teased, once everyone had left. The rest of The Well Hungarians had left, and Chad and Karmine had left to spend the night had Chad's place.  
  
"Yup. Kinda lonely."  
  
"No, it's nice. It's more peaceful."  
  
"It is" Roger agreed.  
  
"I'm so happy for Chad and Karmine."  
  
"So am I."  
  
"They make the perfect couple."  
  
"I know."  
  
Roger was quiet for a moment. "You think we would make a good couple?"  
  
"We ARE a couple, Rog."  
  
"No- I mean a married couple."  
  
Mimi paused. "I don't know. I've never really thought about marriage."  
  
"Neither have I."  
  
"Well, I guess it's something to think about, then," Mimi smiled, awkwardly.  
  
"Yeah, I guess so."  
  
"You ready to go?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alright. Vamanos!"  
  
The two of them left CBGB's with their arms wrapped around each other. The cold wind blew into their faces, but neither of them noticed.  
  
a/n: So, that was the gig! Exciting, huh? What do you call a sexy Roger cupcake? A fuck-cake. No? Okay. Review, tell me how you like! 


	21. The Gallery

"You up, Honey Bear?"  
  
"What time is it?" Maureen asked, groggily.  
  
"It's one. You slept real late."  
  
"Yeah, well I had a late night last night."  
  
"Mo, it's ONE. Jimmy and Frankie are going to be down at the place where you're having the opening at Two-Thirty."  
  
"Fuck," Maureen grumbled, rolling out of bed.  
  
"Do you want me to come with you?" Joanne offered.  
  
"Would you, Pookie?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Alright. I'm gonna take a quick shower, and then we'll go, okay?"  
  
"Alright. Hurry, though."  
  
***  
  
"So who's coming tonight?" Joanne asked Maureen, who was seated in the passenger seat beside her.  
  
"Well, me . . ." Maureen paused. "Of COURSE. You, Jimmy, Roger, Mimi, Mark, Jan, Collins, Frankie, Mitch, Karen, Daisha, Isabella, and that's all, I think."  
  
"You sent them invitations ahead of time?"  
  
"No . . . most of them I just told in person. Roger told Mitch and Karen about it."  
  
"Oh. You've got all your paintings in the trunk, right?"  
  
"Jimmy took them down earlier."  
  
"Even 'Reality Check?'"  
  
"Shit," Maureen groaned. "Turn around, Jo, we've gotta go get it."  
  
Joanne shook her head. "Mo, I think YOU need a reality check."  
  
***  
  
"What are you doing?" Roger asked Mimi, as he walked into the living room.  
  
Mimi was seated on the floor in front of the TV, her feet under her. Her arms were lifted, and she had her eyes closed.  
  
"Meems?" he asked, nervously.  
  
She opened her eyes. "It's yoga, Rog."  
  
"Yoga?" he said, with a smirk.  
  
"Yeah. I just saw something on TV for it, and I decided to try it out."  
  
"You weren't watching Richard Simmons, were you?" Roger joked.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know, that scrawny geek with the tight butt shorts. You know, 'You did the munchies, not you've gotta do the crunchies?"  
  
"Tight butt shorts are hot. You should wear them sometime."  
  
Roger laughed. "And wear am I supposed to find those?"  
  
"I think I saw a pair in Mark's room earlier . . ."  
  
"What did you find in Mark's room?" Mark asked, as he entered the room with Jan.  
  
"Nothing," Mimi laughed, winking at Roger.  
  
"Whatever. Do you know when we have to go down to the place Mo's having the gallery?"  
  
"WE have to at four. What's the name of the place, anyway?" Roger asked.  
  
Mark took a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and smoothed it out with his hands. "Walter & co. Warehouse."  
  
"Never heard of it," Roger frowned.  
  
"Yeah, well. It's Jimmy. He's got his connections," Mark said, sarcastically.  
  
"Maybe you two should give him a bit more credit," Jan said. "I mean, he booked the place for her, didn't he?"  
  
"That doesn't make him a saint," Mark said, wrapping his arm around her waist.  
  
"Well, you're no saint yourself, Marky," she teased.  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Am I coming?" asked Daisha, who had just walked in.  
  
"Well, I don't know. They might have a 'No Pets' policy."  
  
"Shut up, Mimi," Daisha whined.  
  
"Speaking of being nicer to people," Roger laughed. "Meems, treat your sister better."  
  
Mimi made a face. "Yes mom."  
  
Daisha looked satisfied.  
  
***  
  
"Why aren't they here?" Maureen groaned, shuffling her feet nervously. "I told Mark to tell them to come at four. Do you think he told them?"  
  
"Relax, Mo. Mark's a responsible guy. They probably just had trouble finding the place."  
  
"Yeah, because it's in the middle of fucking nowhere," Maureen grumbled.  
  
"Christ, Maureen, take a Midol, would you? I got you the booking, quit complaining!"  
  
"Sorry," she mumbled.  
  
"It's okay. And I invited a few friends of my own, since this seemed like it was going to be a small party."  
  
He stepped aside, revealing four women, all of whom looked younger than him.  
  
"Those are FRIENDS?" Joanne asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"YES, they're my friends. This is Courtney, Aimee, Catherine, and Ruby," he recited, pointing to them each. "They're friends from work."  
  
"Right," Joanne muttered.  
  
Maureen kicked her foot lightly.  
  
"Courtney's a college graduate from NYU. She's a lawyer now. So are Aimee and Catherine. Ruby I met at The Met. She works in the ancient Egypt section."  
  
"So you're into art, then?" Maureen asked Ruby.  
  
"Yes," Ruby said, with a small smile. "I can't paint myself, but Jimmy's told me wonderful things about your collages."  
  
"Really?" Maureen was surprised.  
  
"Told you I knew what I was talking about," Jimmy said, proudly.  
  
They all heard the front door open, with a creak.  
  
"That'd be your friends, I presume?" Jimmy asked Maureen.  
  
Mark and Jan entered, with Mimi, Roger, and Daisha behind them.  
  
They all were examining the inside with their eyes.  
  
"Not too shabby," Roger said slowly.  
  
Actually, it WAS pretty shabby. The cold gray cement floor was the same color as the walls, which had paint peeling off them in large strips. Maureen's canvases were covered by heavy white sheets. Jimmy was going to take them off at Six, when everyone else arrived.  
  
A little metal table ensemble made up the 'buffet' with the food Frankie had helped Maureen make.  
  
Mark took a cracker and bit into it.  
  
"Not bad," he said, his mouth full. "What is it?"  
  
"I don't know the exact name. Frankie told me it . . . it's Patty, or Pate, or something . . ."  
  
"It's Goose Liver," Jimmy said, flatly.  
  
Mark made a face and spit it out.  
  
"Mark, don't you at least have the decency to use a napkin?" Jan hissed, nudging him in the side.  
  
"Sorry," Mark croaked, his eyes still watering from the taste.  
  
"I think it's good," Mimi said politely, taking a tiny bite.  
  
When the others had their back turned, she spit it out into her hand.  
  
"What's that on your face?" Daisha asked, frowning.  
  
Mimi turned red. "Nothing . . . I walked into a while."  
  
"Smart move."  
  
Mimi shrugged. "It was dark."  
  
"Whatever. That's pretty nasty though. Is that why you needed my concealer the other day?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"God. It looks like someone hit you."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Mimi? You okay?"  
  
"What? I'm fine," Mimi said, quickly.  
  
Daisha shrugged. "Alright, if you're sure."  
  
"Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Me worrying about you? Not you worrying about me?"  
  
"Jeez, sorry, I was only asking," Daisha said, putting her hands up in front of her.  
  
Mimi sighed. "Sorry, Daish. I'm not in the greatest mood."  
  
"It's okay. I'm going to see I can find something decent to eat. I didn't have any breakfast."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Mimi watched Daisha walk away.  
  
"You okay?" Roger asked, coming up next to her.  
  
"I can't keep hiding things from her, Rog. She's already suspicious. She knows I'm hiding something from her."  
  
"What can you do, though?"  
  
Mimi sighed. "I don't know."  
  
***  
  
"Who ARE all these people?" Isabella asked Joanne, as more people began to enter the warehouse.  
  
Joanne frowned. "I don't know them. Jimmy must have invited all of them."  
  
"He's quite a character."  
  
The two of them watched, as a man in a business suit tried to take a peak at one of the collages.  
  
"Ahem!" Jimmy said, loudly.  
  
The man scurried away.  
  
"Can I have all of your attention, please?" Jimmy said, in a loud voice. He looked at his audience. Roger, Mimi, Daisha, and Isabella stood near the back. Collins and Frankie were near the 'buffet,' a glass of champagne in each hand. Mark and Jan stood beside Maureen and Joanne. Mitch and Karen waved to Mark, who waved back. Courtney, Aimee, Catherine, and Ruby stood near Jimmy.  
  
Numerous people that Maureen didn't recognize stood around, drinking champagne. They all seemed to be successful business people, each with suits, and briefcases.  
  
"Well, this is a bit more people than you expected, right Mo?" Jimmy laughed.  
  
Maureen nodded.  
  
"Anyway." Jimmy cleared his throat. "You're all here today because of this woman, standing beside me." He took Maureen's hand. "We only recently found out about Maureen Johnson's talent. She'd been hiding her artwork in the closet," he laughed.  
  
A few people that Maureen didn't know laughed as well. Maureen blushed.  
  
"So anyway, over here we have her paintings lined up. They're collages, really. But before I reveal them, let's make a toast to Ms. Johnson, shall we?"  
  
Everyone quickly raised their glasses, and everyone who didn't have one scurried to find one.  
  
"A toast . . . to Maureen Johnson, and her beautiful art. I hope it speaks to you. Cheers," he added.  
  
"Cheers!"  
  
Jimmy took a sip from his glass, and then set it down.  
  
"So here we have it. Maureen is calling this line, "Reality Check,' which is also the name of her more acclaimed piece. Mark, Roger, help me with these sheets?"  
  
Mark and Roger stepped forward, and the three of them lifted the sheets off the canvas, revealing Maureen's paintings.  
  
A bunch of 'Ohhh's' rose. Not ones of disgust, but of pleasant surprise.  
  
"Would you tell everyone a little something about 'Reality Check'?" Jimmy asked Maureen.  
  
Maureen turned red. Jimmy hadn't told her before to actually SAY anything about it.  
  
"Um . . . well this piece is basically what you see every single day, whether you're walking down the street, or you're looking for you're apartment window. If you live in New York, that is. A lot of the people in this collage remind me of my friends . . . some of them ARE my friends. So this piece if really about my friends, I guess," Maureen finished, flustered.  
  
Mark and Jan began to applaud, and then the others did the same.  
  
"Folks, I give you 'Reality Check!'" Jimmy said, as he and Mark and Roger revealed the rest of Maureen's work.  
  
Mark and Roger watched happily, as Maureen was surrounded by admirers.  
  
"How long have you been painting?" one asked her.  
  
"Why have you been hiding these from us? They're BRILLIANT!" said another.  
  
Maureen beamed, proudly.  
  
Other people wandered over to look at the rest of the collages.  
  
"You did great, Honey," Joanne whispered to Maureen.  
  
"Thanks," Maureen whispered back.  
  
"Ms. Johnson?" said one of the anonymous business men.  
  
"Yes?" Maureen said, turning to him.  
  
"My name's Oliver Caldwell. I've been looking for different pieces to put together an art gallery. Not one like this- I'm talking BIG. So far, I've collected eight different pieces from different artists. And of course, I'd pay you."  
  
"How much?" Maureen asked, faintly.  
  
He told her.  
  
Maureen's mouth dropped wide open.  
  
"Ummm, of course, that'd be great!" Maureen stammered.  
  
"Here's my card," Oliver said, handing it to her from his coat pocket. "I'm in my office on weekdays, so you'll give me a call tomorrow then?"  
  
"Y-Yes. Tomorrow," Maureen said, trying to catch her breath.  
  
Oliver smiled. "Great. I've gotta go meet up with another client. But I'll see you around."  
  
"Okay," Maureen said, shakily.  
  
"Honey! That's great!" Joanne exclaimed once he'd left.  
  
"What's great?" Roger asked, as he, Mimi, Mark, Jan, Collins, Frankie, Daisha and Isabella came up to congratulate Maureen.  
  
Maureen was too flustered to speak, so Joanne told them.  
  
"Maureen! That's fantastic!" Jan cried. "You're going to be famous!"  
  
"Well, that's taking it a bit far," Mark laughed.  
  
"Still, that's great, Maureen!" Frankie said, smiling.  
  
"Thanks. And thanks for helping me with the food, Frankie."  
  
"Don't mention it. Anything for a friend," she said, as Collins nuzzled her cheek.  
  
"Maureen, this is great stuff!" exclaimed Mitch, as he brought Karen over.  
  
"Hey, Mitch! I haven't seen you in years. And Karen! How are you?"  
  
"We're great," Karen grinned.  
  
"We've gotta run, guys. We're visiting Karen's folks. We'll see you all around."  
  
"Bye guys," Maureen said smiling.  
  
"Maureen, over here!"  
  
"She's not used to the limelight, is she?" Isabella asked Roger, as Maureen was surrounded by more people.  
  
Roger took one look at Mimi and Mark, and the two of them began to laugh, hysterically.  
  
"What'd I say?" Isabella asked, confused.  
  
***  
  
Mimi yawned. It was almost Nine pm.  
  
"You ready to go?" Roger asked her.  
  
Sleepily, Mimi nodded. "I didn't get much sleep last night, so I'm pretty worn out."  
  
"Me too. Mark, tell Maureen we said goodbye, okay? And tell her congratulations again!"  
  
"I think she's heard that enough times today," Mark laughed, "But I'll tell her. Night, Roger."  
  
"Night Mark."  
  
"Daisha, let's go," Mimi said, tugging on her sister's arm.  
  
"Okay, don't have a cow, I'm coming!"  
  
"I'll see you later, Mimi," Isabella told her. "You should get some sleep. You look pretty worn out. And you have a nasty bruise on your cheek. What'd you do, walk into a wall?" she joked.  
  
Mimi smiled, weakly. "Yeah, something like that. Let's go, Roger."  
  
The three of them left.  
  
"Who's that?" Jan asked Mark, pointing to a man talking to Jimmy.  
  
He wasn't wearing a suit, neither did he have a briefcase. He didn't seem to be to friendly.  
  
Jimmy was telling him something, and the man was listening carefully, scribbling something on a piece of paper.  
  
A moment later, the man disappeared.  
  
"Mo, do you know that guy?" Mark asked Maureen.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The guy who was just talking to Jimmy."  
  
"I didn't see him," Maureen shrugged. "But I'll ask him. Hey, Jimmy!"  
  
"Yeah, babe?" Jimmy replied, to Joanne's disgust. "You having a good time?"  
  
"Yes, Jimmy, thank you so much. I'm so grateful. I really owe you one," Maureen breathed.  
  
"Anything for you, Mo."  
  
"Jimmy, who was that man you were just talking to?"  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The one who was writing something down that you were telling him," Mark cut in. "He just left."  
  
"Oh, him," Jimmy said. "He was asking me for Mimi and Roger's address, so I gave it to him."  
  
"You didn't know him?"  
  
"No."  
  
"And you just gave him their address anyway?" Mark exclaimed.  
  
Jimmy shrugged. "I figured if he wanted their address, they probably knew he was."  
  
"Did he tell you his name?" Mark asked.  
  
Jimmy scratched his head. "Yeah, he did. J something. John . . . Jake . . . Joe . . ."  
  
"Oh shit," Mark groaned. "Joanne, I need to use your phone!"  
  
a/n: *Eerie music plays* Dad a daaaa!!! Coming up soon: Christmas Bells are RIIIINGGING. And Mari, if you're reading this- what do you get when you put a cupcake in an oven? A cupcake in heat. Wink Wink . . . 


	22. Blackout

"I'm beat," Mimi murmured, as she, Roger and Daisha entered the apartment.  
  
"Me too," he sighed. "You wanna hit the sack?"  
  
"In a minute. Check if there's any messages, Daish, will you?"  
  
"Okay," said Daisha, walking over to the phone and pressing the button on the answering machine. Mark's frantic voice immediately filled the room.  
  
"Roger? Are you there? Fuck, Roger, Jimmy told Joel your address thinking he must have been a friend of yours, so he's on his way there now. He might even be there."  
  
Mimi and Daisha froze.  
  
"Mimi?" Daisha whispered.  
  
"It's okay, honey," Mimi said, softly. "I won't let anything happen to you."  
  
All of a sudden, they heard a loud pounding noise at the front door.  
  
"I'll get it," Roger called from the other room.  
  
"Roger, DON'T!" Mimi yelled, rushing to the door.  
  
But Roger had already opened it.  
  
"Can I help you?" he asked, blinking.  
  
"Yeah, you can help me," Joel grunted. He stuck his head in the door and saw Mimi.  
  
"So, this is the guy you've been doing, Mimi?"  
  
"What do you want, Joel?" Mimi asked, quietly.  
  
Roger's eyes widened as he recognized the name.  
  
"You're friend Jimmy gave me the address. Nice guy. A complete idiot, though. Where's Daisha?"  
  
"She's not coming with you," Roger said, suddenly.  
  
Joel gave Roger an amused look. "Hello. Was I talking to you? Mind your business, kid."  
  
He turned to Mimi. "Look, I don't have time to play games. Just give me the kid, and we'll avoid trouble now."  
  
"She's staying here," Mimi said, firmly.  
  
"Fuck this," Jimmy groaned. "There's only one way to do this."  
  
He shoved past Mimi and Roger.  
  
"Daisha? Where the hell are you? Get your ass over here!" he yelled.  
  
"Get out of here!" Roger shouted, running after him.  
  
Joel stopped in the living room, where Daisha sat, nervously on the couch.  
  
"Joel, stop," Mimi exclaimed, breathlessly.  
  
"Shut up, Mimi. Let's go, kid," he said to Daisha, grabbing her arm, roughly.  
  
"Let go of me," Daisha snapped. "I'm staying here with Mimi."  
  
"Like hell you are," Joel sneered. "Let's go."  
  
He pulled her roughly to her feet, and began tugging her along with him.  
  
"Mimi?" Daisha whimpered.  
  
"Forget Mimi. You think you're better off living here? You'd be better off living on the streets than here. You know how your sister gets her money? Do you?" he yelled.  
  
Daisha quickly shook her head.  
  
"By sleeping with other men, that's how she does it."  
  
"That's a lie," Daisha said, quietly.  
  
"You calling me a liar?" Joel growled.  
  
Daisha lowered her head and whispered, "No."  
  
"There's going to be a lot of trouble if you don't leave now," Roger warned.  
  
"Please. What're going to do? Squirt me with your hair gel? Come on, Daisha. Mueva. MOVE!" he snapped, pushing her forward.  
  
"Let go of her," Mimi yelled, trying to pull him away.  
  
Joel whipped his head around, and easily shrugged her off.  
  
"Leave her alone, asshole!" Mimi screamed, startling both Daisha and Roger.  
  
"Why do you always have to make things harder?" Joel demanded, shoving her hard against the wall.  
  
"Mimi!" Daisha screamed.  
  
Roger snapped. Infuriated, he threw himself onto Joel, wrenching him away from Daisha.  
  
"Get the fuck off me!" Joel yelled, pounding his fist into the side of Roger's head.  
  
Dizzily, Roger swung his fist, connecting with Joel's jaw.  
  
"Fuck!" Joel screamed, as his tooth cut into his lip.  
  
Daisha ran over to Mimi, who was slowly standing to her feet.  
  
"Are you okay?" she asked, tearfully.  
  
Mimi nodded, as she got up.  
  
"They're going to kill each other," Daisha whimpered, as Roger and Joel continued to punch, hit, kick and wrestle each other.  
  
"Don't EVER touch Mimi or Daisha EVER AGAIN!" Roger was screaming into Joel's ear, as he wrapped his arm around his neck, bringing him into a headlock.  
  
Helplessly, Mimi and Daisha watched as their fists slammed into each other.  
  
The next thing that happened seemed to happen in slow motion.  
  
Joel finally managed to shrug Roger off of him.  
  
He regained his balance, panting, and wiping blood from his lip.  
  
Then Mimi saw him start to take a small black object from his inner coat pocket.  
  
Daisha screamed.  
  
Roger stared at the gun Joel had before him. His feet refused to move.  
  
Shakily, Joel muttered, "I hoped it wouldn't have to come down to this," as he clumsily groped for the trigger.  
  
"ROGER!" Mimi shouted, shooting forward all of a sudden.. Her mind went blank. The only thing that ran through her mind was that she needed to get Roger out of the way.  
  
The LAST thing on her mind was getting hit herself.  
  
Adrenaline pumping through her veins, Mimi threw herself against Roger, surprising herself with her new found strength.  
  
All of a sudden felt something slam into the back of her shoulder, throwing her forward.  
  
She looked at her shoulder and saw a pool of blood beginning to soak through the gauzy material of her shirt..  
  
Joel's mouth gaped open in horror, realizing his mistake.  
  
Letting out a howl, Roger got to his feet and threw himself against Joel, wrenching the gun out of his hand.  
  
"BASTARD!" he screamed, slamming the butt of the gun against the side of Joel's head.  
  
Heaving, Roger stood to his feet and dropped the gun.  
  
Joel didn't wake up.  
  
Roger rushed over to Mimi.  
  
"Meems?" he whispered, his voice choking up with tears.  
  
Mimi groaned.  
  
"Daisha, call an ambulance!" he yelled.  
  
Daisha ran over to the phone, and began to dial.  
  
Roger cradled Mimi's head in his lap.  
  
"You're gonna be fine, baby," he wept.  
  
"He didn't hit you did he?" Mimi murmured, closing her eyes.  
  
"No. No, he didn't," Roger choked.  
  
A weak smile came over Mimi's face. "Good."  
  
Roger tore off his jacket, tying it around Mimi's arm in attempt to slow the bleeding.  
  
"I don't want to die, Rog."  
  
"You won't. Don't talk like that. You're fine," Roger insisted.  
  
"I'm scared," Mimi said, tears coming to the corners of her eyes.  
  
"Roger! Bring her downstairs! They said they're gonna send an ambulance out here immediately. We have to go meet them," Daisha said, still trembling from what had just happened.  
  
Roger slid his arms underneath Mimi.  
  
"Put your other arm around my neck, okay?" he whispered.  
  
She did.  
  
"There's blood all over your shirt," she said, weakly.  
  
"Fuck my shirt."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"You didn't do anything, babe. It was Joel."  
  
"Did you . . ."  
  
Roger turned his head and saw Joel, still on the ground, his eyes closed.  
  
"I think so."  
  
"Roger," Mimi whimpered.  
  
"It'll be alright. It was self defense- he fucking shot you, Mimi!"  
  
"We have to go!" Daisha yelled, from the hallway.  
  
Roger held Mimi tightly in his arms, and he and Daisha began to quickly make their way downstairs.  
  
"You'll be alright, Meems," Roger whispered in her ear as he hurried downstairs.  
  
Mimi squeezed his hand, and closed her eyes.  
  
Fine . . . You'll be fine.  
  
Roger's face in front of her faded, and slowly turned to black.  
  
a/n: I killed Joel! *puts head in hands* Not gonna tell you what happens with Mimi yet. But you all know I'm not THAT evil. Mari, Steph, Michelle- you better review lol. x33 b0HEME: lol damn you and yuurrr cliffhangurrss 


	23. Two of Hearts and a Joker

Mimi opened her eyes wearily and stared at her unfamiliar surroundings.  
  
Her blurred vision finally cleared, and as she took a glimpse of the off white walls and buzzing florescent lights, she realized where she was.  
  
She turned her head and saw Roger sitting on a fold-out chair beside him, his head held in his hand. He was asleep.  
  
Mimi wondered how long she'd been there.  
  
Suddenly, the events that had taken place earlier hit her like a blow to her face.  
  
Joel was dead.  
  
He'd shot her.  
  
Mimi looked at her arm and saw that her shoulder was bandaged, and winced when she saw an IV needle stuck into her arm.  
  
She hated needles.  
  
"Roger?" she whispered, hoarsely.  
  
Roger immediately lifted his head, making Mimi wonder if he had even been sleeping.  
  
"You're awake," he whispered, with relief.  
  
His eyes were red and puffy. It looked like he had been crying.  
  
"Thank God," he said with a sigh, moving closer to her side.  
  
"You know I'd never leave you alone," Mimi smiled, raising her hand to caress his cheek.  
  
Roger held onto her hand tightly, and kissed it gently before letting go.  
  
"What the hell did they do to me?" Mimi asked, looking at her bandage.  
  
"You lost a lot of blood, Meems. They did an MRI . . ."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Magnetic Resonance Imaging."  
  
"What the hell does that mean?"  
  
"It's so they can see your tissue on screen so they can detect where the bullet is."  
  
Mimi wrinkled her nose. "Gross."  
  
"Then they had to surgically remove it."  
  
"Was I awake for it?"  
  
"You were out the whole time."  
  
Mimi sighed. "God. When I closed my eyes back up in the loft I'd thought it'd be for the last time."  
  
"Don't think like that, Meems," Roger said, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.  
  
Mimi smiled, weakly. "Where's Daisha?"  
  
"She's out in the waiting room with everyone else."  
  
"Everyone else?"  
  
"Isabella, Mark, Jan, Collins, Frankie, Maureen, and Joanne."  
  
"Jeez. How long have I been out?"  
  
"Well . . . it's tomorrow already."  
  
Mimi laughed. "No shit." The she paused. "What about Joel?"  
  
Roger squirmed, uncomfortably. "He's dead. I told the paramedics what happened on the way to the hospital, and they sent some people back to the loft and they sent the police over to file a report."  
  
"File a report . . ." Mimi repeated.  
  
"Yeah," Roger said, his voice a bit shaky. "I told them what happened, but they're going to question me later today."  
  
"Roger . . . it's manslaughter."  
  
"Christ, Mimi, it was self-defense! He fucking shot you!"  
  
Mimi bit her lip. "What's going to happen to you?"  
  
"I don't know. It'll be fine, though," said Roger, trying to put on a brave face.  
  
"But what if it's not?"  
  
Before Roger could reply, a large heavyset female nurse entered the room, pushing a cart with a tray of food in with her.  
  
"Oh!" she said, surprised when she was Mimi was awake. "I was going to give this to your friend, since he's been here all day and I didn't think you'd be up anytime soon. I guess the anesthesia wore off, though. I'll get another tray for you, hon."  
  
"It's okay. I'm not hungry. Thanks, though."  
  
"No problem, hon." She walked over to Mimi's bedside to take a look at the IV drip beside the bedpost.  
  
"Hmm. Dry. I'll be back in a sec to refill it. And to change your bandage."  
  
"Okay," said Mimi.  
  
The nurse gave her another smile before leaving.  
  
"Do you want me to bring in the others to see you?" Roger asked, before Mimi could say anything more about Joel.  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Okay. I'll be back in a moment," he said, kissing her quickly on the cheek.  
  
A moment later he returned, followed by Daisha and Isabella.  
  
"They said only intermediate family," he said, shrugging as the two of them rushed over to Mimi.  
  
"Ohmygod, Chica, you're alright," breathed Isabella, with tears streaming down her face. "I was so worried! Don't give us another scare like that again, kay?"  
  
"I'll try," Mimi said, smiling.  
  
"Does your arm hurt?" whispered Daisha.  
  
"A little," Mimi admitted. "It just aches a lot."  
  
"When all of the anesthesia wears off, it'll hurt like a bitch."  
  
"Thanks," Mimi said, rolling her eyes."  
  
"Sorry," Isabella said, quickly. "You know, the nurses said that if Roger hadn't tied his jacket around your arm, you would have lost a lot more blood."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yup. They also said if the bullet had entered a millimeter to the right, it would have hit an artery. You're lucky, Meems."  
  
"I know," Mimi whispered, looking at Roger.  
  
"Well, I guess you two probably wanna be alone now," Isabella said, standing up. "I'll tell the others that you're doing okay. They slept on the floor of the waiting room last night."  
  
Mimi laughed. "The doctors let them?"  
  
"Well usually they wouldn't, but when they saw how many people were here for you, they just let it pass. Besides, Roger wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
"Thanks, Babe," Mimi said, smiling at Roger.  
  
"No problem," he said, smiling back at her.  
  
The door opened a crack, revealing a young man in a police uniform.  
  
"Roger Davis?" he implied, looking at Roger.  
  
Roger gave Mimi a nervous look. "That's me," he said.  
  
"Do you mind stepping outside for a few moments? We'd like to question you," the cop said, jerking his head back at his partner, behind him.  
  
Roger stood up.  
  
"I'll be back soon, okay, Baby?" he whispered to Mimi.  
  
Mimi nodded, a pit of fear rising in her stomach.  
  
Isabella and Daisha watched as Roger went out the door.  
  
"Mr. Davis?" the other officer assumed, looking at Roger. He was black, and he appeared to be much older than his partner.  
  
"Yes," Roger said, swallowing.  
  
"Mr. Davis, a man was found dead in your apartment at nine past ten last night."  
  
Roger nodded, nervously.  
  
"I know that you've already told the police what happened," the cop said, taking a clipboard from his belt, "But we'd like to ask you a few questions ourselves. Is that alright with you?"  
  
Knowing he had no other choice, Roger nodded.  
  
"Can you tell me exactly what happened last night, in explicit detail?"  
  
"Alright," Roger said, slowly. "My girlfriend's younger sister has been staying at our place for the past couple of days. Her stepfather beats her regularly, and made a few sexual gestures towards her, so obviously we didn't want her staying there."  
  
The officer nodded, scrawling onto the clipboard silently.  
  
"This didn't just start up. He used to beat Mimi, my girlfriend, the same way. Only two days ago she went over there to try to sort things out with him, and he hit her, and threw her against the wall. He wanted to know where Daisha was, but Mimi refused to tell him. He'd been drinking."  
  
Roger cleared his throat, and the officer nodded his head again, gesturing for him to continue.  
  
"Anyway, yesterday a friend of a friend told Joel our address by mistake, and he came to our apartment, planning to bring Daisha back home with him. Mimi tried to stop him, and he shoved her against the wall. I guess I sort of snapped, then. I hit him, out of anger, and also I was trying to protect Mimi and Daisha. He hit me back, and then it just turned into a huge brawl between the two of us. He pulled out a gun, intending to hit me, and Mimi got in the way. I managed to wrestle the gun away from him . . . and I hit him in the side of the head with it. I hadn't planned on the blow being fatal . . . I was just trying to knock him out, you know? I mean, he was armed, and he'd just shot my girlfriend. It was self defense . . . do you understand what I'm saying?"  
  
"For someone not intending to kill anyone, you sure hit him hard," the younger cop said.  
  
"I was SCARED, damn it! He's just shot my girlfriend, and I was scared, and angry, and confused, I was just trying to knock him out so he wouldn't try to fire again."  
  
"And did the victim indeed intend to fire again?"  
  
"Yes. I mean, he was stunned for a moment when Mimi jumped out in front of me, but then he started fumbling for the trigger again, and that was when I managed to get the gun away from him."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Davis," the older cop said, putting away the clipboard. "That will be all for now."  
  
"What's going to happen to me?"  
  
"Well this death COULD go under the category of homicide . . . clearly though, from what you've told us, and from what you've told the other cops, it was an accidental killing, out of self defense. That is, if you're telling the truth."  
  
Roger nodded his head vigorously. "I AM, Goddamn it! Ask Mimi! Or ask Daisha! They'll tell you the same thing I did!"  
  
"There's no need to over react, Mr. Davis," the cop said, quietly. "We just need to have all possibilities available for now, while we are still uncertain of what exactly happened. We plan to do a background search on Joel Vargas. His wife requested that we do an autopsy. The doctors here will be performing the autopsy here in the next 72 hours. From there we'll be able to determine how hard the victim was hit, and if he died of a blood clot, et cetera."  
  
Roger nodded, in a daze. "Will I have to go to court?"  
  
"Possibly. We won't be able to give you a more sufficient answer until later, after the autopsy."  
  
"I'm not going to be taken in, am I?" Roger asked, weakly.  
  
"You mean taken to jail?"  
  
Roger nodded.  
  
The cop shrugged. "Not for now, at least. We'll let you know in the next 72 hours what's going on, alright?"  
  
Roger nodded again.  
  
"Just lay low until then. You can go now," the cop waved him off.  
  
"Thanks," Roger said, hoarsely, as he walked back into Mimi's room.  
  
"Well?" Mimi asked, impatiently as he sat back down.  
  
"They just questioned me . . . your mother requested they do an autopsy. That'll be in about three days. They said they'll let me know what's going to happen after that, and to just lay low for now."  
  
"Okay," Mimi said, slowly. "I'm scared, Rog."  
  
"Don't be, Babe. There's nothing to be scared about. It was self defense you know that."  
  
Mimi nodded, still looking unconvinced.  
  
They heard a rustling noise from outside the door, and all of a sudden, Mimi's mother burst into the room, looking frantic.  
  
"Perfect timing," Daisha grinned, standing up to greet her mother, who she hadn't seen in weeks."  
  
"Daisha! Novio! I was worried sick about you, Chica," Conchita exclaimed, kissing Daisha's forehead.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mama."  
  
"Don't be sorry. You're here and that's all that matters," Conchita said, smiling. Then she rushed over to Mimi.  
  
"Maria Conchita," she breathed, hugging Mimi tightly.  
  
"Hi, Mama," Mimi whispered.  
  
"When they told me . . . I thought . . . I thought of the worst, Chica. I was so frightened."  
  
"I'm okay now, Mama," Mimi said, smiling. She turned her head toward Roger. "Mama, this is my boyfriend, Roger. Roger, this is my mother."  
  
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Roger said, forcing a smile as he shook her hand.  
  
"Indeed," Conchita said, slowly, shaking his hand. "Muy guapo, Mimi," she whispered, with a girlish giggle.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes.  
  
"I've heard a lot about you," Conchita told Roger.  
  
"And I of you."  
  
"Well. It's nice to know Mimi's not ashamed of her Madre, right Mimi?"  
  
"I could never be ashamed of you," Mimi said, laughing.  
  
Conchita smiled, and knelt down beside the side of Mimi's bed.  
  
"So," she said, her voice suddenly becoming seriously, her face sullen. "He's really gone."  
  
"I know," Mimi whispered, knowing beforehand that she would have to have this conversation with her mother. "Are you sad?"  
  
"Sad that he's gone, know. Sad for him, si. He was a very sad, pathetic soul, Chica. He tried to harm my children, and I hate him for that. I should have tried to do something sooner," she said, sighing. "He could have killed you, Chica."  
  
"But he didn't, Mama. I'm alright."  
  
"Yes, but he COULD have. And I would never be able to live with myself knowing I could have done something to stop him"  
  
"Nothing is your fault," Mimi told her.  
  
Conchita smiled. "You're brave, Mimi. Un combatiente."  
  
Mimi blushed.  
  
Suddenly, they heard loud commotion from outside Mimi's room.  
  
"You can't get in there!" shouted the female nurse who had been in Mimi's room earlier.  
  
Mark burst through the door, followed by Jan, and everyone else.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Mark," Roger exclaimed.  
  
"We couldn't wait any longer," Mark said, shrugging.  
  
Collins, Frankie, Maureen and Joanne filed into the room.  
  
"Well, this is sort of uncomfortable," Isabella laughed, moving back towards the window so she had more room.  
  
"Mimi, how are you?" Maureen asked, her voice full of concern.  
  
Mimi smiled. "I'm alright now."  
  
"We were so scared when we heard what happened," Collins said, with a sigh of relief. "But we're blessed to have you back with us."  
  
"Thanks, Collins. Oh, and this is my mother, by the way," she said, gesturing towards Conchita.  
  
"A pleasure," Conchita said, as the others waved and said hello.  
  
Mimi heard a bark.  
  
"What is that?" she asked, frowning.  
  
"A visitor," Frankie said, putting a small bag up on the bed and slowly unzipping it. "Pepper wanted to come see you as well."  
  
Mimi laughed as the small dog licked her face.  
  
"You don't let me do that," Roger joked.  
  
"Roger!" Mimi exclaimed, "My mother's in the room!"  
  
"It's okay, Chica," Conchita said, hiding a smile.  
  
"We had to stop like five times on the car ride here to let her out to pee," Mark complained.  
  
"So? She's a small dog, she has a small bladder. Let her alone," Frankie said.  
  
"We're just so relieved that you're okay," Joanne told Mimi.  
  
"Thanks you guys," Mimi said.  
  
"Does your arm hurt?" Jan asked her.  
  
"I've been getting that question a lot today," Mimi laughed. "It doesn't hurt now. But it will when the anesthesia wears off," she said, before Isabella could answer for her.  
  
"Oh. Sorry about that," Jan said, giving her a sympathetic look.  
  
"It's alright. I'm lucky to be alive, anyway."  
  
"The doctors said that if the bullet had hit a millimeter to the side, she could have died," Roger told the others.  
  
They all shook their heads in disbelief.  
  
"You guys need to leave- NOW!" the female nurse snapped, squeezing into the now filled room.  
  
"Jeez, lady, we're coming," Frankie grumbled.  
  
"And no animals allowed in the hospital!" she demanded, when she saw Pepper.  
  
"That didn't stop them from letting you work here, did it?" Mark muttered, as Pepper growled at the nurse.  
  
Jan shushed him.  
  
"We'll see you guys later, okay?" Collins said to Roger and Mimi.  
  
"See you," Roger said.  
  
"We should probably go too," Isabella said, taking Daisha's hand.  
  
Conchita rose as well. "I'll see you later, Chica."  
  
"Okay. Adios, Mama. Adios guys."  
  
They all left, but Mark stayed behind for a moment.  
  
"Did the police question you?" he asked Roger, quietly.  
  
Roger nodded, and told him what they had told him.  
  
"Fuck. This isn't going to be easy," Mark said, shaking his head.  
  
"It was self defense," Roger responded. "Mark, he shot Mimi. And he would have shot me or Daisha if I hadn't stopped him."  
  
"Alright," Mark said, still seeming uneasy. "I'm just afraid for you."  
  
"Don't be," Roger said, in a tired voice. "Everything will be fine."  
  
"I hope you're right," Mark said, as he reached for the doorknob. "I'll see you guys later."  
  
"Bye," Roger and Mimi said at the same time.  
  
Mark left.  
  
"Are you scared?" Mimi asked Roger.  
  
Roger shrugged. "I've got a mixture of feelings going on right now, I'm scared, I'm relieved that you're okay, and I'm nervous."  
  
Mimi nodded, understandingly.  
  
"But the police are the least important thing on my mind right now," he whispered, kissing her gently on the lips.  
  
Mimi kissed him back, wrapping her uninjured arm around his neck.  
  
When they were in a mid make-out session, the nurse entered the room again.  
  
"Jesus Christ," she said, when she saw the two of them. "If I wanted to deal with stuff like this, I would have become a Zoo Keeper," she declared, slamming the door behind her.  
  
Roger and Mimi looked at each other and giggled as they heard her footsteps rushing back down the hall.  
  
a/n: I did a lot of research for this chapter. Got lots of help from Mari ( Muchos gracias! Anyway, I didn't let Mimi die- TOLD YA SO! Anyway, review, tell me how you like. 


	24. Home, Sweet Home

TWO DAYS LATER  
  
"Here we go," Roger sang, as he pushed Mimi down the hospital wing in a wheelchair. "You ready to come home?"  
  
"Yeah. I don't know why the fuck I have to sit in this wheelchair, though. It's my arm that's hurt, not my legs."  
  
"Hospital policy," Roger said, shrugging. "Besides, once you get into the car, you won't need it anymore."  
  
He pushed Mimi out into the lobby, where Maureen's car awaited them. She had lent the car to Roger, since he didn't have one of his own.  
  
"Can you get in alright?" he asked her, as he opened the car door.  
  
Mimi nodded, and crawled into the passenger seat besides Roger.  
  
"Okay. Let's put on some music, shall we?" he said. He pressed a button and one of Maureen's mix tapes began to blare loudly, playing 'Karma Chameleon' by the Culture Club.  
  
"Or not," he turned it off. "What is this crap, anyway?"  
  
He pressed the 'Eject' button, and squinted at the writing along the cassette tape.  
  
"Maureen's Fetishes Side 1. Hmm. Figures," he said, tossing it into the backseat.  
  
Mimi giggled.  
  
"Does your arm hurt, babe?" he asked her. Her arm was resting in a sling that came around her neck.  
  
"Nah. They gave me some painkillers."  
  
"So you want to go back to the Loft, then?"  
  
Mimi nodded.  
  
"Right-O" he said, pressing down harder on the pedal.  
  
"They're doing the autopsy tomorrow," Mimi told him.  
  
"I know. The cops told me."  
  
"What will that accomplish? It's not like he drank arsenic or something."  
  
"They want to see how hard I hit him," Roger said, uncomfortably. "They also want to see whether is brain was damaged or not."  
  
"Are you afraid?"  
  
"Yes. But I shouldn't be. I did nothing wrong. I was protecting us."  
  
Mimi chewed her lower lip, not knowing what to say.  
  
"You know what they do for patients who've been shot?" he asked her, trying to brighten her mood as they got out of the car.  
  
"What?"  
  
"They get an exclusive piggy-back ride up to the Loft," he said, grinning.  
  
"Ooh. Sounds tempting," she said.  
  
"Get on."  
  
"MeOW," she giggled, as she climbed onto his back.  
  
"Going up," Roger announced, as they started up the steps.  
  
***  
  
"Hey guys," Mark greeted them, as Roger lowered Mimi to the ground. "Meems, you got flowers."  
  
"I did?" she asked, surprised. "Who're they from?"  
  
Mark read the card. "Dear Mimi, You have our best regards, and we hope you're well again soon. Love, Mitch and Karen."  
  
"That was nice of them," she smiled, as she held the flowers to her nose.  
  
"Mitch's a good guy," Roger said. "I should know. I lived with him for four months."  
  
"So when do you have to go to the hospital again?" Mark asked Mimi.  
  
"I have to go the weekend before Christmas. So in a few weeks," she said.  
  
"Where's Jan, Mark?" Roger asked, suddenly.  
  
"At her Mom and Dad's house in Ardsley," Mark said. "I miss her."  
  
"And this is the only time you've ever been away from her," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Ardsley . . . is that near Scarsdale?" Roger wondered, aloud.  
  
"Yup. So we didn't exactly grow up too far from each other."  
  
"April told me she lived in Connecticut."  
  
Mark shrugged. "That's just what she told me."  
  
"Weird," Roger said, frowning.  
  
He turned to Mimi. "You want something to ear?"  
  
"Nah. I'm pretty worn out from all the pills they've been giving me. I think I'm gonna go lie down."  
  
"Alright. Call me if you need anything, alright?"  
  
"Okay. Night guys."  
  
"Sleep tight," Roger said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.  
  
Mimi disappeared into their bedroom and closed the door behind her.  
  
"She seems a little off," Mark said to Roger.  
  
"Mark, she's just been shot, and her stepfather is dead- of course she's a bit off."  
  
"How's she taking it? I mean the whole thing with Joel?"  
  
"She's not sad or anything. She hated him. If she could she probably would have killed him herself. But she's just really nervous about this whole thing with the cops."  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
"Yes," Roger admitted. "But I've got to put on a brave face. I'm the one who got myself into this, right?"  
  
Mark shrugged.  
  
"So I'm going down to the police station tomorrow," Roger said, softly. "They'll tell me what's going to happen then. And what they found during the autopsy."  
  
"Oh," Mark said, awkwardly. He didn't know what to say.  
  
"Yeah. I think I'm gonna go lie down with Mimi," Roger said suddenly, standing to his feet. "You'll be alright by yourself?"  
  
"Yeah. Separation Anxiety is a bitch. But what can you do," he shrugged.  
  
"Sorry, Mark."  
  
"It's fine. She'll be back Friday."  
  
"Well that's good, at least. Only two days away."  
  
"I don't think I could wait more than two days," Mark laughed.  
  
Roger grinned. "I'm happy you found someone, Mark."  
  
"Thanks. So am I."  
  
"I'll see you later?"  
  
"Sure. If you're not out for the rest of the night, that is."  
  
"Alright. In that case, goodnight," he grinned, as he sauntered off into the bedroom.  
  
Mark sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen.  
  
A few moments later, the phone rang.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Is that how you answer the phone? Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"  
  
"Hi, Jan," Mark said, relieved. "It's good to hear the sound of your voice."  
  
"God, I know. Same with you. I feel like it's been months since I've seen you, and I only left last night."  
  
"So how's the visit going?"  
  
Jan groaned. "My parents are the same as usual. They nag me about every little thing I do, and every other word is 'That's not what your sister used to do.' It's hell."  
  
"Speaking of April, you said you grew up in Scarsdale."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"But April told Roger she lived in Connecticut."  
  
"Oh . . ." Jan paused for a moment.  
  
"You still there?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm here."  
  
Mark waited for her to explain.  
  
"WE didn't live in Connecticut. April did for about a year. My parents sent her to a rehab up there. She was a Heroin addict. She came back home after nine months." Jan sighed. "Some help that was to her. And even after that, my parents still expect me to model my life after hers."  
  
"April was in rehab?" Mark asked, surprised.  
  
"Yup. Didn't work. Obviously."  
  
"How long ago was this?"  
  
"She had just turned eighteen . . . so it was about five years ago."  
  
"Oh." Mark twirled the phone cord around his finger.  
  
"Are you going to tell Roger?"  
  
"I guess so. Eventually. That is, if it's alright with you."  
  
"If you think he should know, just tell him. I don't want you to feel that you need to hide stuff from your best friend."  
  
"I'll tell him later. He's already stressed out with what's happened with Mimi, and the whole thing with the cops," Mark said, lowering his voice just to make sure Roger wouldn't overhear him.  
  
"How is Mimi, by the way?"  
  
"She's doing great. Her arm hurts her still, but the hospital gave her a prescription for some painkillers. Roger's going to go fill it out tomorrow. After he gets back from the Police Station," he said, uneasily.  
  
"Do you guys have any idea what's going to happen?"  
  
"Well, the autopsy's tomorrow. The police will probably tell him the outcome, and what's going to happen to them. Roger told them that the whole thing was out of self defense. I think they believe him, but they just have to keep all options open."  
  
Mark heard Jan sigh.  
  
"Everything will be fine," he assured her, though he had no way of knowing.  
  
"I hope so. Listen, Mark, I told my parents about you, and they want to meet you. I'm going to be at their place for Christmas and I was wondering . . . do you want to come with me?"  
  
"Sure," Mark exclaimed. "You're sure it's alright with your folks?"  
  
"Positive. It's alright with you being away from your friends during Christmas, though?"  
  
"I'm sure they'll understand."  
  
"Great! I'll let my parents know as soon we I get off the phone with you."  
  
"Okay," Mark couldn't help the smile that came across his face.  
  
"I've gotta go, my mom wants me to help her get dinner ready. But I'll see you on Friday, okay?"  
  
"I can't wait."  
  
Jan laughed. "Neither can I. I love you, Marky."  
  
"Love you, Jannie."  
  
"Ugh. My mom used to call me that when I was little," Jan groaned.  
  
Mark laughed. "Bye Jan."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Mark hung up the phone.  
  
***  
  
"What time do you want me to pick you up?" Joanne asked Maureen, as they pulled up beside the building where Oliver worked at.  
  
"In about an hour. Not too long."  
  
"Okay. Good luck, Honey."  
  
"Thanks, Pookie," Maureen smiled. She leaned over and gave Joanne a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Don't be late," she warned, jokingly.  
  
"I won't. See you at six," Joanne said, as Maureen got out of the car.  
  
"Bye," Maureen said, as Joanne pulled away.  
  
"Can I help you?" the doorman asked Maureen, as she entered the building.  
  
"Yes . . . Caldwell . . . Oliver Caldwell. What floor is he on?"  
  
The man walked over to his desk and checked. "He's on the twelfth floor. Room One-Oh-Four. You want me to give him a call and let him know he's got a visitor?"  
  
"No. It's okay. Thank you, though," Maureen said, as she headed for the elevator.  
  
She got inside, and pressed the button. She tapped her foot impatiently, and finally the elevator reached its destination.  
  
Maureen slid out, and searched for room number 104.  
  
It didn't take her long to find.  
  
Maureen knocked on the door, cautiously.  
  
"Come in," Oliver's voice called from the other side of the door.  
  
"Maureen! I wasn't expecting you."  
  
"I know I should have called, but there's been some trouble with a some friends of mine, and my mind just got all jumbled," she apologized.  
  
"That's alright. Anything I can do to help?"  
  
"No, it's fine. Thank you, though."  
  
"Don't mention it. So, remind me why you've come to my office?"  
  
"My artwork," Maureen reminded him.  
  
"Oh yes. Well, I've gotten two more artists to contribute to the collection since the last time I've seen you. I've seen their work though, and none of them are nearly as good as you are."  
  
"Thank you," Maureen said, blushing.  
  
"It's true. You've got a real talent, Maureen. Or do you prefer me calling you Ms. Johnson? It is MS. Johnson, correct?"  
  
"Yes . . . I'm not married," she said, feeling flustered.  
  
"Alright. Where were we?"  
  
"You were telling me about your other clients," Maureen reminded him.  
  
"Oh, yes."  
  
"Did they come into your office as well."  
  
"Well, no," he said, blushing. "Only you."  
  
Maureen frowned. "Why?"  
  
"I get a vibe from you, Maureen," Oliver said, neglecting to call her Ms. Johnson.  
  
Maureen felt his hand over hers.  
  
"A vibe?" she asked, nervously.  
  
"Yes. A good one, mind you. You're a very attractive woman, Maureen."  
  
"Thank you," she giggled, uncertainly. He wasn't bad himself. He had natural tanned skin, and powerful green eyes, and his head was adorned by wispy, yet full dark brown hair.  
  
Maureen stared into his eyes for a moment, and then quickly looked away.  
  
"Do you agree with me? That me and you have a lot in common?"  
  
"Well, I . . . I don't know you that well, Oliver."  
  
"True. But I'd like to get to know you better," he said, coming closer to her.  
  
"Oliver, I . . . I have a girlfriend. And aren't you married?"  
  
"Divorced," he corrected her. "And you haven't been branded a lesbian for life, have you?"  
  
Maureen winced at his use of the word, 'Lesbian.'  
  
"No . . .," she said, slowly. "But Oliver . . ."  
  
She was silenced by his mouth pressing roughly against hers.  
  
Maureen was startled, but found that she couldn't pull herself away from him.  
  
Her arm dangled around his neck, and Oliver made a pleasant murmuring sound as he began to kiss her neck.  
  
His hand found its way under her skirt, and began to crawl up her thigh, when Maureen pulled away.  
  
"Oliver, I can't," she exclaimed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  
  
"You can't deny we have good chemistry," he said, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"I . . . I have to go," she said, stupidly, as she reached for the doorknob.  
  
"Alright, go. But that doors open whenever you want to return," Oliver said.  
  
"Bye," Maureen said, slamming the door.  
  
Neglecting the elevator, she rushed down the stairs, and sat on the steps outside the building, and waited for Joanne.  
  
She tried to block out what had just happened in her mind, but all that she could think of was Oliver. His lips against hers, his warm touch, his eyes.  
  
Maureen shook her head, and struggled to stop thinking about him.  
  
A few minutes later, Joanne pulled u in front of her.  
  
"Hey, honey," she said, as Maureen slid into the seat beside her. "How'd it go?"  
  
"It went alright," Maureen said, quietly.  
  
"Any idea if you're going to be a world-famous artist, yet?" Joanne teased.  
  
Maureen shrugged,  
  
She stared out the window, stared at the emerald statue outside the building.  
  
It was the same color as his eyes.  
  
a/n: I had to give Maureen some stage time. More exciting things coming up, I swear! 


	25. Wrong Side of the Bed

"So when are you leaving?" Mimi asked Roger, that next morning.  
  
Roger glanced at the old antique clock that Maureen had given them. "Two- Thirty. So I should leave in about twenty minutes."  
  
"Are you scared?" Mimi asked, quietly.  
  
Roger shrugged. "I was before. Now I just wanna get this over with, you know?"  
  
Mimi nodded. "I just have this bad feeling," she said, in a small voice.  
  
"Hey, come here," Roger said, gently, bringing her closer to him for a hug.  
  
"Roger, my arm," Mimi reminded him, wincing in pain as he squeezed too tight.  
  
"Sorry," he said, quickly, releasing her.  
  
"It's okay," she said, rubbing her shoulder.  
  
"When do you get to take that thing off, anyway? It's making things difficult."  
  
Mimi smirked. "Like what?"  
  
"Well. Sex, for instance. How am I supposed to do my thing with the edge of your sling cutting into my side?"  
  
Mimi laughed. "You pig!"  
  
"You love me." Roger kissed her on the cheek.  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Say it!" he said, tickling her in the ribs.  
  
"Ag! I love you!" she groaned, and he stopped.  
  
"Say it like you mean it," he teased, wrapping his arms around her again, more gently this time.  
  
"I love you," she whispered, and stood on her toes to kiss him gently on the lips.  
  
"Mmm. I wish I could just stay here with you all afternoon instead of going down to the station like some escaped convict."  
  
"You've got to, baby," Mimi said, sympathetically.  
  
Roger groaned. "I know, I know."  
  
"Cheer up- you can spend the whole NIGHT with me afterwards," she said, winking.  
  
"Ooh, tempting," he laughed.  
  
"Are you making fun of me?"  
  
"I don't know. Am I?"  
  
"Fuck you," she said, but she was grinning.  
  
"Tonight," he promised her.  
  
Mimi giggled.  
  
Roger glanced at the clock again. "I've got to meet Maureen in front outside in a few minutes. It sucks not having my own car," he groaned.  
  
"Well, would you rather have your guitar, or a car?"  
  
"Good point," he said. "I'd better go."  
  
"Alright. Good luck," she said, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder.  
  
"Thanks. I'll be back tonight, okay?"  
  
"'Kay."  
  
"Love you."  
  
"Love you too," she said, as he went downstairs to meet Maureen.  
  
***  
  
"How're you doing?" Roger asked Maureen, as he slid into the car next to her.  
  
"Good," Maureen said, as she started up the car.  
  
"Heard from Jimmy lately?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Weird. I figured he'd be kissing your ass now that you're turning into a real artist."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"You excited?"  
  
"About what?"  
  
"About becoming a world-famous artist, Mo."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
"So you hear from that Oliver guy lately?"  
  
"What is this, twenty fucking questions?" she stormed, all of a sudden.  
  
"Christ. Sorry," Roger said, holding up his hands in defense.  
  
"Don't mention it," she said, gripping the wheel so tightly her knuckles were turning white.  
  
"You sure you're okay, Mo?"  
  
"Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
"You're not acting like yourself."  
  
"And suddenly you know me so well?"  
  
"Well, I HAVE known you for three years."  
  
"Big fucking deal," she grumbled.  
  
"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," Roger mumbled, staring out the window.  
  
After a few minutes, Maureen pulled up in front of the station.  
  
"Thanks," Roger said, as he got out of the car.  
  
"Don't mention it."  
  
"I'll see you later?"  
  
"If you haven't been sentenced to life in prison."  
  
"Jeez, Maureen, thanks for being so comforting," he said, sarcastically.  
  
"Alright, then I'll see you at four."  
  
"Alright. Bye," he said, as Maureen sped off.  
  
Roger stared at the large marble building for a moment, before slowly trudging up the steps and entering it.  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Hon," Joanne called, when she heard the front door open and close. "Maureen?" she called, when she didn't get an answer.  
  
"I'm here," Maureen said, flatly, plopping into a chair.  
  
"Hey, I haven't seen you all day. First I had that damn dentist appointment, and then you had to go drive Roger over."  
  
"Sorry. How was the dentist?"  
  
"It was a bitch. I had two fillings."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"So how's your day been so far?" Joanne asked.  
  
Maureen shrugged. "So far, so good."  
  
"That doesn't say much," Joanne said.  
  
Maureen shrugged again. "Yeah, well."  
  
"So you never told me what happened when you went to see Mr. Caldwell. Is he interested in your paintings?"  
  
"Yeah," Maureen said, squirming in her seat uneasily.  
  
"Do you know which pieces he wants to show?"  
  
"We didn't really get that far," Maureen said, picking at her nails nervously.  
  
"How far DID you get?"  
  
Maureen shrugged.  
  
"Jeez, Maureen, you're acting pretty weird."  
  
"What do you mean?" Maureen snapped, agitated.  
  
"I mean you're acting really moody and jumpy and nervous."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, that's not like you at all."  
  
"Yeah? Well maybe I'm turning over a new leaf."  
  
"Tell me what's bothering you?" Joanne pleaded.  
  
"Nothing's bothering me," Maureen grumbled.  
  
"Well then can you tell me why you're acting so weird?"  
  
"Why the fuck is everyone hoarding me with questions?" Maureen shouted, throwing up her hands. "Can't I get any fucking privacy around here?"  
  
"I was just asking," Joanne exclaimed, startled by her outburst.  
  
"Well don't question. Just leave me alone."  
  
"Fine. Maybe I should just leave then," Joanne snapped, becoming angrier by the second.  
  
"Fine! Go! At least I'll have a Goddamn moment to myself."  
  
"Fine!"  
  
"Fine!"  
  
Maureen winced as she heard the front door slam loudly, making the doorknob rattle.  
  
"God, Maureen, what's wrong with you?" she asked herself aloud.  
  
The phone rang all of a sudden, as if to answer her question.  
  
Maureen walked over to it and swiped the phone out of it's cradle.  
  
"Hello?" she grumbled.  
  
"Hey, babe. Miss me?"  
  
"Oliver! This is the fourth fucking time you've called me!" Maureen hissed.  
  
"Yeah, so? I miss hearing the sound of your voice."  
  
"Yeah, well I can do without hearing yours. I have a girlfriend, Oliver. I have my own life. Just leave me alone."  
  
"Well, Maureen, you've really got no choice about talking to me. Sooner or later we're gonna have to discuss putting your stuff into my collection."  
  
"Weren't we supposed to talk about that last time? Before you hit on me?" Maureen snapped.  
  
"Hey, you wanted it to happen just as much as I did. Don't pretend not to."  
  
Maureen was silent.  
  
"C'mon, Maureen, admit it. We have a connection going on. Can't you feel it?"  
  
"I'll talk to you later, MR. CALDWELL," Maureen snapped, slamming the phone down.  
  
Letting out a scream of annoyance, she stomped off to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it would change her mood for the better.  
  
***  
  
Mimi heard Roger come in at around five.  
  
"That you, baby?" she called, from the kitchen.  
  
"It's me," he said, as he walked towards the sound of her voice.  
  
"How'd it go?" she asked, nervously.  
  
"Well," Roger said, slowly. "They did the autopsy."  
  
"And?"  
  
"They saw that Joel died from a blood clot in his brain, which resulted from me hitting him. They said it COULD be categorized as homicide. BUT," he continued, before Mimi could say anything, "They did a background check on him. He has a history of violence. He's been taken in more than once for using violence towards a cop, he did time for dealing drugs in Central Park, AND I told them about what he'd been doing to Daisha, and how he hits you. So they believe that I hit him out of self defense, because they know that him becoming dangerous and carrying a gun is not all that surprising. They questioned your mother, also, and she told them all about how he used to treat you and your sisters. They're saying that it was an accidental murder, done out of self defense. They're letting me off the hook."  
  
"Baby, that's great," Mimi exclaimed, feeling a great weight of nervousness being lifted.  
  
"But I still may have to go to court. They said it's not probable, but it's still something to keep in mind."  
  
"Well at least that's the worst that could happen," Mimi murmured, wrapping her good arm around him tightly.  
  
"Yeah. For a moment there I thought they were gonna lock me up and throw away the key."  
  
"I'd bail you out," Mimi said, winking.  
  
"Meems, you can't bail someone who's sentences for life," Roger laughed.  
  
Mimi stuck out her tongue. "Well I don't know how all this police stuff works. I just watch COPS on TV, but that's all."  
  
Roger laughed, and hugged her back, lifting her off the ground.  
  
"I love you," Mimi murmured, covering his face in kisses.  
  
"Where's the party?" Mark's voice asked, as he stepped into the kitchen.  
  
"Hey, Mark," Roger said, as he put Mimi on the ground.  
  
"How'd it go?"  
  
Roger told him what happened.  
  
"So they're not keeping you?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Good," Mark sighed, relieved. "So we have nothing to worry about?"  
  
"I may have to appear in court. But other than that, everything's going to be fine."  
  
"That's great. Oh, I almost forgot," he said, suddenly. "Yesterday Jan called. She was inviting me to spend Christmas with her at with her parents in Ardsley."  
  
"We always spend Christmas together, though," Roger frowned.  
  
"If you don't want me to, I'll stay," Mark said, quickly.  
  
Roger rolled his eyes. "Mark, if it'll make you and Jan happy, go. I don't want to be a party pooper. Besides, Christmas is a few weeks away, and you've got time to think it over."  
  
"Okay. Thanks, Rog."  
  
"When's she coming back?"  
  
"Tomorrow," Mark grinned. "I can't wait."  
  
"Puppy love," Mimi declared, from behind Roger.  
  
Roger laughed.  
  
"Yeah. Well I just stopped by to grab my camera," said Mark.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Early Christmas project. You'll see."  
  
Roger shrugged. "So you're going back out then?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Okay. See you later."  
  
"Bye," Mark said, exiting the room.  
  
Roger then turned to Mimi. "Alone at last," he said, smiling.  
  
"Yup," she smiled back at him.  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Ms. Marquez, but I believe you promised to accompany me to the bedroom tonight?"  
  
Mimi laughed. "Do you ever think about anything besides sex?"  
  
"Sure. You."  
  
Mimi laughed as he carried her off and disappeared into their bedroom.  
  
***  
  
"So did you ask Roger?" Jan asked Mark, over the phone.  
  
Mark was at a payphone, about a block away from Central Park.  
  
"Yup. He says it's fine if I want to go."  
  
"Great!" Mark could almost HEAR her smiling. "So, what're you doing?"  
  
"Nothing much. I'm just gonna go do some random filming."  
  
"Marky, the filmmaker," Jan sighed. "It sounds so dreadfully sexy."  
  
"Well, if you think of it THAT way," Mark said, filming a frozen wad of gum stuck to the floor of the booth near his shoe.  
  
"So, I'm coming home tomorrow."  
  
"I know. I can't wait."  
  
"Neither can I. I mean, I love my folks to death, but . . . you know."  
  
"Yeah, I do," Mark said, rolling his eyes. His mother tended to be a pain in the ass on a number of occasions.  
  
"I've gotta run, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"You betcha."  
  
Jan giggled. "I love you, Mark."  
  
"Love you too."  
  
"Bye."  
  
"Bye."  
  
***  
  
"Well. That was fun," Roger said.  
  
"Mmm hmm," Mimi murmured, resting her head on his bare chest.  
  
"What time is it?" he asked her.  
  
"Dunno. Check the clock."  
  
Roger glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. Eight oh clock. You hungry?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Me neither. What do you wanna do?"  
  
"Sleep," Mimi mumbled into his chest.  
  
"You're boring," Roger laughed.  
  
"I can't help it. I've been having a lot of late nights."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I have too."  
  
Mimi sat up suddenly, and slid off the bed, walking over to the closet, pulling out one of Roger's crumbled T-shirts, and a pair of flannel pajama pants.  
  
With her back towards him, she pulled off her shirt and bra, and for the first time Roger saw the gunshot wound clearly without the bandages on it.  
  
"That looks like it kills," he said, wincing.  
  
"What?" Mimi said, her back still towards him.  
  
"You know. The gunshot wound."  
  
Mimi looked over her shoulder and made a face. "Yeah, that is pretty nasty, isn't it?"  
  
"You think it'll leave a scar?"  
  
"Probably," she shrugged, pulling the shirt over her head, and sliding into the flannel pants.  
  
"That'll be a pretty impressive war wound," Roger said, as she slid back into the bed beside him.  
  
Mimi shrugged.  
  
Roger rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. He'd never noticed the tiny dots that decorated it before.  
  
"What're you looking at?" Mimi asked him.  
  
"The dots."  
  
"The dots?"  
  
"On the ceiling."  
  
Mimi raised her eyebrows. "You're weird."  
  
"Part of my charm."  
  
Mimi rolled onto her back, and stared at the ceiling as well.  
  
"Having fun?" Roger asked, turning his head towards her.  
  
"Tons," she replied.  
  
"Instead of counting sheep now we can count dots."  
  
"That's fucked up."  
  
"Yeah. Wanna try it?"  
  
Mimi laughed. "Whatever."  
  
"No really. Try it."  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes. "Okay. One, two, three, four . . ."  
  
Roger closed his eyes and listened to the melodic sound of her voice. Pretty soon, he was asleep.  
  
"One hundred forty seven . . . Roger, this is stupid, I'm not doing this anymore."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Roger?" Mimi said, poking him.  
  
Roger rolled over, but didn't wake up.  
  
Mimi smiled, and laughed, silently.  
  
She wrapped his arm around her waist, making herself feel more secure.  
  
Then she closed her eyes, and in a matter of minutes she faded into sleep. 


	26. Holiday Gifts

DECEMBER 22nd  
  
"Miss Marquez?" the nurse called, as she walked into the waiting room.  
  
Mimi turned to Roger, whose head was rested on her shoulder.  
  
"You want me to come in with you?" Roger offered, lifting his head up.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "No, it's okay. I probably won't be that long."  
  
"Okay," Roger said, sleepily. It was six in the morning, and they were at the hospital, so the doctor could have a look at Mimi's shoulder.  
  
"So, how've you been, Mimi?" the doctor asked, as he closed the door behind the two of them.  
  
"Well, my shoulder aches sometimes. But the doctors gave me some painkillers, so most of the time, it's okay."  
  
"Yeah, it's going to ache for a while," the doctor said, smiling sympathetically. "Could you please roll up your sleeve, so I can take a look at the wound?"  
  
Mimi did so, and the doctor gently peeled the bandage back so he could see.  
  
"That DOES look pretty nasty," the doctor observed. He examined her arm further. "Well, luckily the area isn't infected. You clean it and change the bandage every day?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. Have you been using the sling?"  
  
"I stopped wearing it after the first two weeks. I didn't really seem to need it."  
  
"That's fine. The point of the sling was just so the pressure would be taken off from your shoulder. But t seems to me that it's feeling better, right?"  
  
Mimi nodded.  
  
"Well, then, it seems you're doing alright. You're really lucky that bullet didn't hit an artery."  
  
"I know," said Mimi.  
  
"Well then. I can give you another prescription for some more painkillers in case you're running out. Keep cleaning the wound and re-bandaging it- and do you have any other questions or concerns about anything else disregarding your arm?"  
  
"Well, yes," said Mimi, rolling down her sleeve, "There is ONE thing."  
  
***  
  
Maureen woke up later that morning, and sat up in bed, yawning.  
  
She looked to the other side of the bed, and saw that it was vacant.  
  
"Joanne?" she called, rubbing her eyes as she padded barefoot into the kitchen, where she heard the water running.  
  
"I'm in here," Joanne said, flatly, as Maureen entered the room.  
  
Ever since they had fought a few weeks earlier, the two had been uneasy around each other.  
  
Maureen walked over to the refrigerator to grab something to drink. She settled on a bottle of Sunny Delight, and sat down at the counter, taking a long sip.  
  
Joanne watched her, silently for a moment, and then went back to washing the dishes.  
  
"You know you don't need to do that," Maureen said, as she swallowed a mouthful of Sunny D.  
  
"Well if I don't do it, nobody else will," Joanne replied, haughtily.  
  
"I would."  
  
"That'll be the day," Joanne scoffed.  
  
Maureen sighed. She hated keeping things from Joanne. Oliver kept trying to call her, and every time she turned him down.  
  
She would tell her now, Maureen decided. She needed to get the weight off her shoulders.  
  
"Pookie?" she asked, quietly, as Joanne rinsed her hands on a dish towel.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I haven't been quite honest with you about certain things."  
  
Joanne frowned. "Like what?"  
  
"Well . . . like Oliver, for instance."  
  
"Yes?" Joanne urged her to continue.  
  
"We didn't exactly talk about the collection when I saw him that one time . . ."  
  
"What DID you talk about?" Joanne asked, impatiently, dreading the answer.  
  
"Other things," Maureen said, weakly. "Out of nowhere, he kissed me."  
  
Joanne was silent.  
  
"And I suppose you led him on," she said, coldly.  
  
Maureen shook her head. "It didn't happen like that, Jo," she insisted. "One moment I was talking to him about the collages, and the next I knew his lips were against mine, I finally pulled away from him, and I told him I had to go. He keeps calling me now. He just won't accept no for an answer."  
  
"Is that who's been calling us all the time?" Joanne asked, quietly.  
  
Maureen nodded. "I wanted to tell you," she whispered. "That first day when you picked me up from his office, I wanted to tell you. But I was just to shocked and frustrated by what happened. And then I started to feel really guilty, like I'd betrayed you. And then we got into that stupid argument, and that obviously wasn't a good time to bring it up."  
  
"You promise he came onto you on his own?" Joanne asked.  
  
"I swear, Jo."  
  
Joanne sighed. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch lately."  
  
"Pookie, I'M the one who's been a bitch. I've been like that to everyone lately. Oliver just tries to call me every single hour of the fucking day, and it's been stressing me out a lot."  
  
"I'm sorry," Joanne said.  
  
Maureen shook her head. "It's not your fault. He's just a creep. A really, really desperate creep. I TOLD him I have a girlfriend, but obviously he doesn't see that as an obstacle. I don't even like him like that, Joanne. I promise you."  
  
"I believe you," Joanne said. "I just wish you would have told me earlier so we wouldn't have gotten into a fight."  
  
"I know. I should have. I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay." Joanne forced a smile. "At least we're okay now, right?"  
  
"Right," Maureen agreed, forcing a smile.  
  
"We should get caller ID or something. Or find a way to block Oliver's number. Is that possible?"  
  
Maureen shrugged.  
  
"What about the art collection? He was offering you a good amount of money, Mo."  
  
"Money isn't worth what we have," Maureen said.  
  
Joanne smiled. "Thanks, Honeybear."  
  
"Welcome, Pookie."  
  
"So we're okay now?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
Just then, the phone rang.  
  
Maureen and Joanne both stared at it.  
  
It continued to ring.  
  
Finally, Maureen reached for the phone, to Joanne's dismay.  
  
Maureen turned to her and winked, as she put the phone on its side.  
  
Joanne smiled, and gave her a quick kiss as the dial tone began to ring, obnoxiously.  
  
***  
  
"You almost done packing?" Jan asked Mark, as he stuffed random articles of clothes into two blue duffel bags.  
  
"Almost," Mark replied.  
  
He grabbed his camera from off his bureau, and put it into its leather case.  
  
He then struggled to zip the bags.  
  
"Ready," he said, standing to his feet.  
  
"Great," Jan said, smiling. "Let's go put them in the car, okay?"  
  
"Hold on," Mark said. "I want to say goodbye to Roger and Mimi first."  
  
"Roger?" he called, tapping on Roger's door.  
  
Roger opened the door.  
  
"You leaving now?" he asked, looking disappointed.  
  
Mark nodded. "Sorry, pal."  
  
"Hey, whatever makes you happy, Mark," Roger said, smiling.  
  
"Where's Mimi?" Mark asked, sticking his head into the room. "I wanted to say goodbye to her too."  
  
"She's staying a bit longer at the hospital than she had intended to. She told me to go on without her, and she'd take the subway back."  
  
"Is everything alright?"  
  
"Yeah. I mean, I hope so."  
  
"I'm sure everything's fine," Mark said, encouragingly. "Tell her I said goodbye, alright"?  
  
"No problem. Bye, Mark. Bye, Jan."  
  
"Bye, Roger," Jan waved, as she helped Mark take his bags outside.  
  
***  
  
DECEMBER 23RD  
  
"You sure we need all this stuff?" Collins asked Frankie, as they pushed their overflowing cart through the party goods store.  
  
"Yup. Maureen gave me a list of what to get," Frankie replied.  
  
Collins, Frankie, Maureen, Joanne, Roger, and Mimi were having a Christmas party on Christmas Eve in the loft.  
  
"Okay, let's see," Frankie said, retrieving the list from her pocket. "Christmas lights, ornaments, Candy Canes, wrapping paper, eggnog, America's Favorite Christmas Songs Volume 1. We have everything?"  
  
"Yes," Collins said, relieved. "What are we going to do for a tree?"  
  
"Roger's bring a tree back up to the loft. I don't know how the hell he's going to get it up there," Frankie said, shaking her head.  
  
"Oh. Well, here. I couldn't wait 'til Christmas to give you these," Collins said, handing Frankie a small velvet green box.  
  
"Collins, you didn't need to get me anything," she giggled, uncovering a pair of emerald-jeweled earrings.  
  
"I didn't really know what kind you'd like," Collins said, quickly.  
  
"Oh, Collins, I love them! They're beautiful!" she exclaimed, as she slipped them through the holes in her ears.  
  
Collins grinned, pleased with himself.  
  
"I got you something too," Frankie said, grabbing a small book from her pocket."  
  
"A book?" Collins said, interested. He read the cover. "Pet-Owning for Idiots." He grinned. "Thanks, Frankie."  
  
"I thought you might want to study how to become friends with Pepper," Frankie giggled. "You like it?"  
  
"Of course," Collins said, kissing her, not caring if anyone else was staring or not.  
  
***  
  
CHRISTMAS EVE  
  
"Merry Christmas!" Collins greeted Roger and Mimi, as he, Frankie, Maureen and Joanne entered the loft, each of their arms bundled with presents. Except for Frankie, who was holding Pepper.  
  
"Hey guys," Roger greeted them, cheerfully.  
  
"Hey Roger. Mimi, you look so adorable," Maureen exclaimed.  
  
Mimi had on a sleeveless velvet cut dress, with red and green dangly earrings.  
  
"You don't think I look like a nerd?" she said, blushing.  
  
"You look gorgeous, Mimi," Frankie told her. In her arms, Pepper was wearing a holiday Doggie outfit, on sale at Petco.  
  
"I've got eggnog waiting," Maureen reminded Roger, holding up a covered pitcher.  
  
"Oh yeah. Just put that in the kitchen," Roger told her.  
  
Maureen disappeared into the apartment.  
  
"The tree looks great," Joanne said, impressed.  
  
"Maureen helped me decorate it," Mimi said. "I've got all these old ornaments from when I was little in a bunch of cardboard boxes, and I never thought I'd have to put any use to them."  
  
"It's great," Joanne said, poking a little porcelain Santa Clause, who dangled near the bottom of the tree.  
  
"What's that at the top?" Collins said, frowning.  
  
"Can't you see? It's a star," Roger said.  
  
Collins squinted, trying to see it better.  
  
"Roger made it out of paper machette," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Hey, I wanted to do SOMETHING."  
  
"It's a beautiful star, baby," Mimi reassured him, trying to smother a giggle.  
  
"Why aren't the Christmas lights on?" Frankie asked, as she lowered Pepper to the ground.  
  
"I didn't want to pay extra on our electricity bill," Roger shrugged. "Hey, don't let that dog eat the tree!"  
  
"Is Daisha here?" Joanne asked Mimi.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "She and Isabella are with my mom for Christmas."  
  
Joanne nodded, understandingly.  
  
"Anyone up for eggnog?" Maureen sang, as she came back into the room. She'd fished a tray out of the kitchen, and had poured glasses for all of them.  
  
They all politely took a small sip from the glasses, and tried to cover the squeamish looks on their faces.  
  
"It's um, delicious, Pookie," Joanne said, grimacing.  
  
Maureen sighed. "If you don't like it, don't drink it. It's as simple as that."  
  
"Sorry, Mo," Joanne said, smiling.  
  
"I'm gonna go get a glass of water to wash it down," Mimi said, making a face.  
  
"I'll go with you," Roger said quickly, following her into the kitchen.  
  
"Hey, Rog," Mimi said, once they were alone in the kitchen.  
  
"Yep?"  
  
"You're standing under mistletoe," she said, waving it above his head with a girlish grin.  
  
"Meems, I'm not anywhere near UNDER it," he laughed. Mimi had raised it so it was only under his chin.  
  
"Are you making fun of me?" she demanded, jokingly, placing her hands on her hips.  
  
"Of course not. You get a kiss anyway," Roger said, and leaned his head down to kiss her.  
  
"Besides," he added, once they'd pulled away, "I've always wanted to meet one of Santa's elves."  
  
"Fuck you!" Mimi laughed. "I'm not THAT short. I've grown at least two inches over the past year."  
  
"Yeah, and that makes you what- five feet?" Roger teased.  
  
Mimi stuck out her tongue.  
  
"Roger, you better get some paper towels or something," Collins called from the other room. "Pepper just took a dump beside the tree."  
  
"Fuck," Roger muttered, grabbing a roll of paper towels as Mimi laughed.  
  
***  
  
"So, Mark, you grew up in Westchester?" Mr. Rosenberg asked Mark, over dinner.  
  
"Yes. I grew up in Scarsdale."  
  
"Oh, I have many friends who live in Scarsdale," Mrs. Rosenberg said, with a smile. "Of course, they've all probably moved away by now."  
  
"You two want anymore Latkes?" Jan's father offered.  
  
Mark shook his head.  
  
"I'm stuffed," Jan declared, putting a hand to her stomach. "So, how do you like the folks?" she whispered to Mark, once her parents had gotten into a conversation with each other.  
  
"They're nice. I like them," Mark told her.  
  
"Good. That means they made a good first impression," Jan laughed. "So how's it feel to be away from Roger and the others this Christmas?"  
  
"Well, actually, I'm Jewish, so I don't really mind anyway."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You know what?"  
  
"I know you're Jewish."  
  
"How?"  
  
"You have the Jew-Vibe going on," Jan grinned.  
  
"What? You mean the traditional big honker?"  
  
"If by honker you mean nose, then yes."  
  
Jan laughed. "Besides, my mom always wanted me to marry a nice, Jewish boy," she winked.  
  
"What's that?" Jan's mom asked, looking up.  
  
"Nothing, Mom," Jan giggled.  
  
"Oh. Alright." Mrs. Rosenberg went back to talking to her husband.  
  
"It's weird to only have us four at the table. I mean, not having April here," Jan said to Mark.  
  
"Of course, I completely understand," Mark said, though he wasn't sure he did.  
  
"Did you tell Roger about April's whole rehab thing?"  
  
"Not yet," Mark admitted. "I will, though. Eventually."  
  
"It's okay," Jan smiled.  
  
Mark was silent for a moment. "Jan?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I know that neither of us are catholic, but I made you a little Christmas present, anyway."  
  
"Even so, Christmas is tomorrow, Mark," Jan laughed.  
  
"Well, I think we can bend the rules a bit, since we're Jewish," Mark said, winking.  
  
Jan laughed again. "Alright then."  
  
"I sort of need to use the TV set to show you."  
  
"Okay." Jan turned to her parents. "Mom, Dad, do you mind if Mark and I excuse ourselves?"  
  
"Of course not. Go ahead, hon," Mr. Rosenberg said, smiling.  
  
"Thanks," Jan said, as she and Mark scrambled into the living room.  
  
"It's not much," Mark said, as he hooked his camera up to the VCR. "But I think you'll like it."  
  
He turned the TV on.  
  
Mark had put together clips of him and Jan together from that day they went to Central Park together, and other scenes from the park, and the city in general.  
  
First it showed a group of pigeons, pecking at a crust of bread. Then came Jan and Mark sitting on a bench together, smiling broadly at the camera.  
  
Then it showed a close-up of the piece of gum Mark had shot in the phonebooth.  
  
Mark laughed when he saw the look on Jan's face.  
  
The video went through a bunch of different shots from around Central Park, and several other ones of Mark and Jan together.  
  
It ended with a shot of the two of them sitting on the grass, smiling at the camera, with the words, 'Merry Christmas, Jan," scribbled over it.  
  
"Mark, this is so great," Jan exclaimed, as Mark switched off the TV.  
  
"Really? I thought it was kinda sappy."  
  
"Sappy is good," she assured him, with a smile.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Well then I hope you can excuse this sappiness," Mark said, as he leaned in to kiss her.  
  
"Happy Chanukah, Mark," Jan giggled.  
  
"Oy vay."  
  
***  
  
"So, I got you a little something," Roger told Mimi, once the others had left.  
  
Mimi giggled. "Roger, you didn't have to get me anything.  
  
"I wanted to," he insisted, retrieving a small cassette tape from his pocket.  
  
"What is it?" Mimi asked, squinting at the small lettering along the side. "Your Eyes- For Mimi. Aw, Roger," Mimi smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck.  
  
"I thought you'd like to have a recording of it," Roger grinned, sheepishly, as Mimi kissed him on the cheek.  
  
"Now what did you get me?" he asked, jokingly.  
  
Mimi held up a finger. "Un momento."  
  
She disappeared into the bedroom, and then came back with a flat white box.  
  
Roger uncovered it, slowly. "Aw, Meems, these are great," he grinned, pulling out a pair of green and red checked boxers from the box. An 'R' was monogrammed on the side."  
  
"And they're tight, too," Mimi teased. "I got them a size small on purpose."  
  
"They're perfect," Roger smiled, hugging her. "I guess that's it for the Christmas gifts, then?"  
  
"Well, there's one other thing," Mimi said, slowly. "I don't know if it really counts as a present though."  
  
"What is it?" he asked, sitting on the couch beside her.  
  
Mimi twirled a stray curl around her finger, nervously. "You know how I stayed a little later than I was supposed to at the doctor's office?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, I stayed because I'd been feeling really crappy lately. It wasn't just cramps, I've just felt nauseous sometimes when I wake up in the morning."  
  
"You never told me about that."  
  
"I didn't want to bother you."  
  
"Is everything alright?" Roger asked, concerned.  
  
Mimi nodded, a smile coming over her face. "Yes, everything's more than alright. Roger- I'm pregnant."  
  
Roger was silent for a moment.  
  
Mimi shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I wanted to wait until tonight to tell you," she said, nervously. "What do you want to do?"  
  
Finally, Roger spoke. "Keep it, of course," he said, to Mimi's relief. "Christ almighty, I'm going to be a father!" he grinned, sweeping Mimi off the floor and into his arms.  
  
"Me- Roger Davis. I'm gonna be a Daddy!"  
  
Mimi laughed. "I'm glad you're happy."  
  
"Of course I'm happy. Aren't you?"  
  
"Yes. When the doctor first told me, I was a bit nervous. But then I started to feel really excited about the baby."  
  
"So where would it stay?" Roger asked, looking around the Loft.  
  
Mimi laughed. 'It's not an 'it,' Roger. And we can put a crib in our room. Or we can convert the dining space into a nursery, since we never use it anyway. My mother gave me some money after I told her about the baby."  
  
"You told her before me?"  
  
"Rog, she's my mother."  
  
"Good point. How much?"  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes and told him.  
  
Roger's eyes widened. "Whoa. That's like enough to BUY a baby!"  
  
"Roger, don't exaggerate," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Sorry, Meems. God, I'm so happy for you! For US!" he exclaimed, kissing her on the lips.  
  
"I'm happy too," Mimi said, glowing.  
  
"So, uh. Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"  
  
"I won't find out for a couple of months," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Oh yeah. I don't know a lot about this stuff," Roger said, in an apologetic voice. "So, when do you get your belly?" he asked, placing a hand on Mimi's stomach.  
  
"Not for a while, I hope," Mimi said, making a face.  
  
"God, I still can't believe it," Roger said, shaking his head. "Are you going to tell the others?"  
  
"Tomorrow, I guess."  
  
"What about Mark?"  
  
"I'll tell him when he gets back. He gets back tomorrow, right?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"When should we start shopping for furniture?"  
  
"Roger, the thing's only a seedling now. We don't have to worry about baby furniture for a couple of months.  
  
"Right, right. I knew that."  
  
Mimi smiled, and buried her face into his chest.  
  
"I love you," she murmured, feeling the material of his shirt rub against her cheek.  
  
"I love you to, Meems," he sighed, kissing the top of her head.  
  
Mimi lifted her head and smiled, kissing him on the lips.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Roger." 


	27. Celebration

CHRISTMAS DAY  
  
"Welcome back!" Roger greeted Mark and Jan the next afternoon, as they entered the Loft.  
  
"Thanks," Mark said, breathlessly, letting the two duffel bags drop to the floor.  
  
"We're going to the Life later," Roger told him.  
  
"Why? Do celebrate my homecoming?" Mark asked, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
"Not exactly," Roger said, winking at Mimi, who smiled, knowingly.  
  
"How was the Christmas party?" Jan asked.  
  
Roger shrugged. "It was good. It wasn't the same without you guys, though."  
  
"Aw, shucks," Mark joked.  
  
Jan shrugged off her winter coat, and looked around the apartment. "Is Daisha here?"  
  
"She went back to live with my mother," said Mimi. "Now that Joel's not there anymore, she has nothing to be afraid of."  
  
"Oh, that's nice. Did you . . . have to go to his funeral?"  
  
"My mother asked me if I wanted to go. I told her no," Mimi said, flatly. "She and Isabella went. They probably were the only people there. Joel's parents died when he was a kid."  
  
"That's too bad," said Jan, quietly. "When was the funeral?"  
  
"It was a week ago."  
  
"So how've you two been anyway?" Mark asked, changing the subject. "Did you give each other your Christmas presents yet?"  
  
"Yes," Mimi said, smiling warmly at Roger, who grinned back at her.  
  
"How was it over there?" Roger asked, taking Mark's bags and placing them on the couch."  
  
"It was fun. They're nice people," said Mark.  
  
"It was fucking FREEZING, though," said Jan. "If you think it's cold here, you should see it over there. And they got like 3 feet of snow last night. Luckily, Mark and I left before it started to snow."  
  
"Good food?" Roger asked Mark, who nodded, as Jan laughed.  
  
"I nearly burst after dinner," said Mark.  
  
"Well it wouldn't hurt you to eat that much regularly, Mark. You're all skin and bones anyway."  
  
"I am not," argued Mark.  
  
Roger looked at Mimi and rolled his eyes.  
  
"So anyway, I wanted to drop of the bags and say hi to you two, and me and Jan are gonna head back to her place. We'll see you later at the Life Café?"  
  
"Sure," said Roger.  
  
"Bye," waved Jan, and the two of them left together.  
  
"They sure are spending a lot of time together," Mimi observed, once the door had closed behind them.  
  
"At least he's happy though," said Roger. "I haven't seen him this energetic in a long time. Not since he was with Maureen and even then, he wasn't as happy as he is now."  
  
He took a Gingerbread cookie that Frankie had brought last night from the coffee table, and offered it to Mimi. "Want one?"  
  
Mimi grimaced. "I can't eat that now."  
  
"Sorry," Roger said, sympathetically. "How's your stomach been?"  
  
"I was sick early this morning," Mimi admitted.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"You were asleep, and I didn't want to bother you. Besides, morning sickness isn't uncommon or anything," she shrugged.  
  
"So you're going to be feeling like this often?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "I guess so."  
  
Roger sighed. "I'm sorry, Babe."  
  
"It's not your fault," Mimi told him, nudging him with her foot.  
  
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I still can't believe it," he murmured, nudging his nose into her curly hair.  
  
Mimi smiled. "I know," she whispered, squeezing his arm as he wrapped it around her chest.  
  
"What do you want to call it?" he asked, lifting his head up.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Well we should wait and find out whether it's a boy or a girl first. I mean, I don't want to have my heart set on Beth or something and then find out it's a boy."  
  
Roger made a face. "You want to call it Beth?"  
  
"No, I was just using that as an example," Mimi laughed. "And stop calling it 'it.'"  
  
"Well, I can't really call it a he or a she, now can I?"  
  
Mimi sighed. "Just call it 'The Baby,' or something like that."  
  
"Can I call it the fetus?"  
  
Mimi made a face. "Why?"  
  
Roger shrugged. "I dunno, it sounds cool. Maybe we should name the kid Fetus Davis?"  
  
"Yeah, sure. Fetus. And what will it's middle name be, then?"  
  
Roger whispered a name into her ear.  
  
Mimi's eyes widened. "Ew!" she smacked his arm, playfully. "Rog, you're so gross."  
  
Roger grinned, mischievously.  
  
Mimi sighed, and laid her head back against one of the couch pillows. "When do you think we should start shopping for baby furniture?"  
  
Roger shrugged. "We can't do that unless we know the sex. We can't bring home pink furniture for Fetus Davis if he turns out to be a boy, right?"  
  
"Roger, I am NOT calling our baby Fetus Davis!"  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Seb," Roger greeted the waiter at the Life Café, as he, Mimi, Mark, Jan, Collins, Frankie, Maureen and Joanne entered the restaurant.  
  
"Do you guys EVER eat anywhere else?" Seb exclaimed, as he pulled out eight menus from the counter behind him.  
  
"If we ate anywhere else, you wouldn't have any customers left," Maureen laughed. "Ow!" she complained, as Joanne gave her a kick.  
  
"Don't be rude to him," Joanne hissed.  
  
"I wasn't, I was only kidding. You know I was kidding, right Sebby?"  
  
"Right, Maureen," Seb sighed. "Follow me," he said, as he led them to a table.  
  
"So, it'll be the usual again? One Tofu Platter, three cheeseburgers, one Miso Soup, one plate of spaghetti . . ."  
  
"And a partridge in a pear tree," Mark interrupted him.  
  
Jan giggled.  
  
"Actually, Seb, could you make it four cheeseburgers?" Mimi asked him, as the group all gave her weird stares.  
  
"What? I'm hungry," Mimi said, leaning back in her seat.  
  
"Alrighty. I'll be back with your grub in a minute or two. Adios," Seb stuck his golf pencil behind his ear, and went over to another table.  
  
"So is there a reason you summoned us over here?" Collins poked Roger in the shoulder. "Or were you just hungry?"  
  
"Yes, Mimi and I have something to tell everyone."  
  
"They're getting married. I KNEW it!" Maureen whispered to Joanne, who put a finger to her lips.  
  
"Not exactly, Mo," Roger laughed, overhearing her. "We just wanted to bring you all together so we could tell you all at once- Meems, do you want me to tell them or do you want to?"  
  
"I'll tell them," Mimi smiled.  
  
The others waited, impatiently.  
  
"Well, you all know I went to the doctor a few days ago so he could see how my arm was doing. And I'd been feeling a little under the weather lately, so I asked him to run a few extra tests."  
  
She slipped her hand through Roger's and squeezed. "And, well, what he found out was, that I'm pregnant. Roger and I are going to have a baby."  
  
Everyone was silent for a moment.  
  
Then, Maureen broke the silence. "CONGRATULATIONS! I can't believe it! You're having a baby!" she squealed, rushing out of her chair to hug Mimi tightly.  
  
She placed her hand on Mimi's stomach. "This is so great! Do you know what you're having?"  
  
"No, not yet," Mimi laughed, amused by Maureen's reaction.  
  
"Congratulation, Davis," Collins exclaimed, punching Roger lightly in the arm.  
  
"Thanks," Roger beamed.  
  
"So . . . when did you and Roger . . . you know, conceive it?"  
  
"Maureen!" Joann exclaimed, unable to keep from laughing.  
  
"Sorry. How far are you along?"  
  
"Three weeks and four days," Mimi said, proudly.  
  
"Oh! Almost a month! Only eight more months to go!"  
  
"God, don't remind me," Mimi pretended to groan.  
  
"Congratulations, Roger," Mark placed his hand on his best friend's shoulder.  
  
"Thanks, Mark," Roger smiled.  
  
"May I propose a toast?" Collins inferred, standing to his feet.  
  
"Yes. Yes, a toast, of course," Maureen said, scrambling for her water glass.  
  
Collins took his glass and stood on top of his chair.  
  
"Careful, Collins," Frankie whispered.  
  
Collins rose his glass, as did the others. "To Roger and Mimi," he said, "May they have a healthy . . ."  
  
"Fetus?" Roger inquired, earning a light slap from Mimi.  
  
"A healthy baby," Collins continued, "And, oh, hell, congratulations, you two! Cheers," he added, taking a sip from his glass.  
  
"Cheers," the others chorused, and did the same.  
  
"So, Roger, how does it feel to know you and Mimi can't make whoopee for another eight months?" Mark asked, jokingly.  
  
"Mark!" Jan exclaimed.  
  
"It sucks, royally," Roger joked.  
  
"It's too bad Christmas already passed," Frankie said to Mimi. "I would have brought you guys stuff for the baby."  
  
"That's okay. Thanks anyway, Frankie."  
  
"We're still gonna get you guys gifts for the baby, don't you worry," Collins said, grinning.  
  
"Thanks, Col," Mimi smiled.  
  
"Here we are," sang Seb, as he brought a tray piled with food to the table.  
  
"Thanks, Seb," said Maureen. "Guess what?"  
  
"You're never coming back?" Seb said, half-joking.  
  
"Nope. Mimi's pregnant!"  
  
"Oy vay," he said, pretending to look horrified.  
  
"You can at least congratulate them," Joanne laughed.  
  
"I am. Congratulations, you guys," Seb said to Roger and Mimi. "You'll tell the kid all about your wonderful waiter, Sebastian, won't you?"  
  
"Of course," said Mimi.  
  
Seb grinned. "Great. Ta-ta," he said, as he set the food down and left.  
  
"So THAT'S why you're getting a burger," Maureen said. "Roger, you better start stocking the fridge with yogurt and pickles."  
  
"Yeah, right. I hate pickles," Mimi said.  
  
"Meems, you're pregnant. Pretty soon, you're going to be eating EVERYTHING."  
  
"I can't wait," Mimi groaned. "I guess I'm going to have to start buying maternity clothes too."  
  
"Well, at least it's an excuse to get you gifts," Jan joked.  
  
"You shouldn't be needing maternity clothes until you're about four months along," Collins told Mimi.  
  
"You'll still be gorgeous anyway, Meems," Roger said, kissing her on the cheek.  
  
"Thanks, Rog."  
  
"We'll still love you, even if you start to outgrow the Loft," he joked.  
  
"Don't be mean," Mimi whined. "I don't see any babies coming out of YOUR vagina anytime soon."  
  
Roger blushed, as the others laughed.  
  
"Speaking of babies," Mark said, suddenly, "Karen's supposed to be having her baby in a few days. I ran into Mitch the other day and he said that she's a few days late."  
  
"Really? I'll have to call him to see how she's doing," said Roger.  
  
"How long have you known?" Frankie asked Mimi.  
  
"Only a couple of days. But I had a hunch that I was before that, since I'd been getting sick in the morning."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry," Frankie said, with a sympathetic smile.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "Don't be. You're not the one who got me pregnant," she laughed.  
  
***  
  
"Well, well. Alone again," Roger said to Mimi, once they were back in the Loft. Mark was staying at Jan's place for the night again.  
  
"Don't try anything funny now, Rog," Mimi laughed. "You know we can't do anything until after the baby's born."  
  
"That SUCKS," Roger whined.  
  
Mimi laughed, and rolled her eyes. "I hope this kid turns out to be more mature than you," she joked.  
  
"Why? I'm mature," Roger protested.  
  
Mimi giggled, as she kicked her shoes off. "Pretty soon my feet are going to swell up," she said, staring down at her toes.  
  
"It'll be fine, baby," Roger said, wrapping his arms around her waist.  
  
"Well, at least it'll only be for a few months," Mimi said, shrugging.  
  
"That's the spirit!" Roger said, poking her in the side.  
  
Mimi giggled.  
  
"I wonder if this kid's gonna look like me," Roger wondered aloud.  
  
"God forbid," Mimi joked.  
  
"That's it!" Roger picked her up over his shoulder.  
  
"Roger!" Mimi shrieked, kicking out at him.  
  
"Say uncle," Roger joked, tugging on one of her toes.  
  
"Roger, don't be an ass, put me down."  
  
"Say it!" he said, as he began to tickle her foot.  
  
"Okay! Uncle!" she squealed, and he stopped.  
  
Roger looked behind him, to see her head dangling over his shoulder. "You tired?"  
  
"Yes," she admitted.  
  
"Right-O. Let's go to the royal bed chamber then, shall we?"  
  
"We shall."  
  
Roger carried her into the bedroom, where the two silently changed into their nightclothes, and slid into bed.  
  
"Meems?" Roger whispered to Mimi, once he'd turned out the lights.  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"I'm really happy for us."  
  
Mimi rolled on her side and smiled at him. "So am I."  
  
"Night, Babe."  
  
"Night, Roger."  
  
a/n: Yeah, that was sappy. Anyway, we got BEBE! Whooooooot! 


	28. Multiple Moodswings

JANUARY 18  
  
"Meems?" Roger whispered into Mimi's sleeping ear.  
  
"Mmmph?"  
  
"You've gotta get up, babe. We've got to go to the doctor. For the ultrasound, remember?"  
  
"Ugh. Yes," Mimi grumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.  
  
"Mee-Mee," Roger said in a sing-song voice, tugging at her arm.  
  
Without getting up, Mimi tossed the pillow at him.  
  
"Seriously, Mimi, you've gotta get dressed," Roger said, catching the pillow.  
  
"Why do I have to get up TODAY?" Mimi groaned. "I feel like shit. I'm tired as hell. I was up at two in the morning last night heaving my guts into the toilet."  
  
Roger made a face. "Thanks for the imagery. Besides, you're usually up at that time anyway."  
  
Mimi shut her eyes, not answering.  
  
Roger sighed. He'd known that sooner or later he'd have to prepare himself for Mimi's mood swings.  
  
"Mimi," he said again, gently. "You have to get up. Don't you wanna make sure the baby's healthy?"  
  
"Why don't you dress me, then?" Mimi snapped, sarcastically.  
  
Roger shrugged his shoulders. "When in Rome," he began to tug on one of the pant legs of her flannel pajamas.  
  
"Okay, okay! I'm up," Mimi grumbled, sitting up. "Toss me that skirt hanging in the closet? The black one?"  
  
Roger obeyed, and threw the black leather skirt in her direction.  
  
"Pretty soon I'm going to be too big to fit into these," Mimi mumbled, as she slid on the skirt.  
  
"That's the spirit," Roger joked. "Way to be optimistic, Meems."  
  
"Excuse me, but I didn't hear you tossing YOUR dinner into the toilet last night," Mimi replied, as she pulled a white tank top over her head.  
  
"True," Roger agreed, glancing at the clock by the bed. "We've gotta go soon, Meems."  
  
"Hold your horses. I'm a pregnant woman, for crying out loud!"  
  
"Mimi, you're not even two months along yet," Roger grinned. "Just wait until May. THEN you can complain about having to hurry up."  
  
"Doesn't matter how far along I am," Mimi said, a hair clip dangling from her lower lip. She twisted her hair into a messy ponytail, and slid the clip in behind her ear. "I still have YOUR kid inside me."  
  
"OUR kid," he corrected her.  
  
Mimi sighed. "I still can't believe I'm going to be a mother," she said, shaking her head.  
  
"Yeah. I can't wait," Roger said, smiling at her.  
  
Mimi smiled back, sheepishly.  
  
"You done yet?" he asked her, as she slid her feet into her high heeled boots.  
  
"Yup," she replied, standing up from the bed. "Let's go."  
  
***  
  
"I always hate it here," Mimi whispered to Roger, as they sat side by side in the waiting room.  
  
"Why?" Roger whispered back.  
  
"Because whenever you're in here, everyone is in pain."  
  
"Not necessarily," an elderly woman said, who was next to Roger. She had overheard the conversation.  
  
"Excuse me?" Roger said, blinking.  
  
"I said, not everyone in here is necessarily in pain," she repeated.  
  
"What do you mean?" Mimi asked.  
  
"Well, take you for example. You're not in pain. You're going to have a baby."  
  
"How'd you know?" Roger asked, bewildered.  
  
The lady smiled. "You're young. And neither of you appear to be seriously hurt. So I just assumed it was so."  
  
She smiled and nodded her head towards Mimi. "How far along are you, dear?"  
  
"Just about six weeks," said Mimi.  
  
The woman smiled and nodded.  
  
"Why are you in here?" Roger asked her.  
  
The woman smiled, faintly. "I have leukemia. I'm going in for chemotherapy."  
  
"I'm sorry," Mimi said, softly.  
  
The woman shrugged. "Don't be. This ain't real, anyway," she said, tugging at her gray hair to show them that it was a wig.  
  
"Mimi Marquez?" a nurse at the doorway inquired.  
  
"Coming," Mimi said quickly, standing to her feet.  
  
She turned back to the old woman. "It was nice meeting you. Good luck," she added.  
  
"Thank you, dear. You too. You live a long, happy life together, you hear?"  
  
Mimi smiled, weakly. "Thank you."  
  
"Miss Marquez?" the nurse called, from the door.  
  
"Coming," Mimi said again.  
  
Roger stood up, grabbing both his and Mimi's jackets.  
  
"Goodbye," he said to the old woman, and she nodded, and smiled.  
  
"And you are?" the nurse asked Roger, as he and Mimi approached her.  
  
"He's my boyfriend," Mimi said, quickly. "The father."  
  
"Well, naturally, I would presume," the nurse said, humored. "Follow me."  
  
She led the two of them down the hall, past men and women, both young and old in wheelchairs, or stretchers, or using walkers.  
  
Mimi bit her lip nervously. She hated hospitals. The only times she'd been in one was when Joel had shot her, and when she had found out she was positive.  
  
"In here," the nurse said, finally stopping at a door. "Doctor Eledge will be in in a moment."  
  
"Thank you," Roger said, as she closed the door behind her.  
  
Mimi lifted herself onto the exam bed and Roger sat down on a stool beside her.  
  
A moment later, the doctor entered the room.  
  
"Hello, Miss Marquez. Mister Marquez, I assume?" she asked, looking at Roger.  
  
Roger blushed. "Um, no. Just her boyfriend."  
  
"Oh, I see. I'm Dr. Eledge. So you're in for your six week check up, huh?"  
  
"Yup," Mimi said, glancing around, nervously.  
  
"You nervous?"  
  
"Well, it's my first time doing this," Mimi said, forcing a small smile.  
  
"That's understandable. I can see how you would be a little nervous." She took a wide metal object from one of the lower drawers.  
  
"What's that?" Roger asked.  
  
"It's a speculum, Rog," Mimi told him.  
  
"A what?"  
  
"A speculum. You know . . . to check out things down there."  
  
"Oh?" he looked interested, instead of disgusted.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes, and sighed as the doctor neared her with the object.  
  
"I think you know how this works out, Mimi," the doctor said, giving her a somewhat sympathetic look.  
  
"I know," Mimi sighed, beginning to unzip her skirt.  
  
"Do I have to stay?" Roger asked, his eyes wide.  
  
"No, you're perfectly free to leave," Dr. Eledge assured him.  
  
"No, it's okay. I think I should stay," he said, quickly.  
  
"Pervert," Mimi grumbled, as she laid down on the table.  
  
"Hey, I'm your boyfriend. This stuff isn't new to me."  
  
"You ready, Mimi?" the doctor asked.  
  
Mimi winced. "Do I have a choice?"  
  
"Okay. Here we go."  
  
A moment later, Mimi began to pull her skirt back on, and Dr. Eledge had moved over to the sink to wash her hands.  
  
Roger was still seated on the stool, his eyes twice the size they had been when he had first entered the room.  
  
"Okay, Mimi, now I'm going to check the baby's heartbeat. This should be a bit more pleasant than the previous procedure."  
  
"Alright," Mimi said.  
  
Dr. Eledge took out her stethoscope.  
  
"Roll your shirt up, just a bit?" she asked.  
  
Mimi did.  
  
"Okay," Dr. Eledge said, placing the stethoscope onto Mimi's stomach.  
  
As she listened, she chewed her lip, and appeared to be in deep concentration. "Hmm," she said.  
  
"Is everything alright?" Roger asked.  
  
"Yes, everything is fine. I hear a steady heartbeat," she said, slowly. She placed the stethoscope in another position and listened again. The corners of her mouth slowly turned up into a smile.  
  
"What is it?" Mimi asked, impatiently.  
  
"Well," Dr. Eledge said, as she put away the stethoscope. "I don't hear just one healthy heartbeat- I hear TWO healthy hartbeats."  
  
It took Mimi a moment to process what had just been said.  
  
Roger, however, was right on target.  
  
"Oh, fuck . . ." he said, slowly.  
  
"Roger!" Mimi hissed.  
  
"Miss Marquez, it appears you are having twins," Dr. Eledge said, smiling.  
  
Mimi's eyes widened. "I AM?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
Mimi turned to Roger, an amused look on her face. "We're having twins."  
  
"We did a nice job."  
  
"We did," she giggled.  
  
"Alright, Mimi, there's just a few more questions I need to ask the both of you," Dr. Eledge said, taking out a clipboard and a pencil. "Are you and Roger sexually active, currently?"  
  
"Well, no," Mimi said, slowly. "Aren't you not supposed to . . . do it, when you're pregnant?"  
  
An amused smile came over Dr. Eledge's face.  
  
"Actually, you CAN," she told her.  
  
Roger's head shot up. "WHAT?"  
  
"Until around the next trimester, it's perfectly fine to do so. You just might not be comfortable as you become farther along."  
  
"So you're saying," Roger began, "That I have spent the last six weeks a saint for no reason?"  
  
"One more thing I need to ask you," Dr. Eledge said to Mimi, both of them ignoring Roger.  
  
"I've been jipped," he said, shaking his head.  
  
"I understand you both are HIV positive?"  
  
They both nodded, slowly.  
  
"How many years have you been?" she asked Mimi.  
  
Mimi chewed her lower lip. "About five years," she said, fidgeting uncomfortably.  
  
"And you?" Dr. Eledge said, turning to Roger.  
  
"Almost two years," he said, quietly.  
  
"Are our babies going to be positive?" Mimi asked, quietly.  
  
"It will be determined after they're born," Dr. Eledge told her.  
  
"But there is a chance they might be?" she asked, softly.  
  
She nodded. "But then again, there's always a chance they might not be, also."  
  
Mimi nodded.  
  
Dr. Eledge took another glance at her clipboard. "How have you been feeling in general?"  
  
"Well, the morning sickness is making me feel like shit, if that's what you're asking," Mimi said, a small smile on her face.  
  
"That's expected. But other than that?"  
  
Mimi shook her head.  
  
"And you're still taking your AZT?"  
  
Mimi nodded. "Am I supposed to?"  
  
"Yes. And I'm going to prescribe for you two other pills as well for you to take. We call it 'The Triple Cocktail.' It's just to prevent the HIV from spreading, and slowing it down."  
  
"Alright," Mimi said, as Dr. Eledge scribbled down the name for her. She ripped a piece of paper from her clipboard. "You can fill the prescription out here," she said, handing it to Mimi. "Do you have any other questions?"  
  
Mimi shook her head.  
  
"Okay," Dr. Eledge said, smiling. "I guess I'll see you when you have your next check up. In about two or three months. It's nice to have met you."  
  
"You too," Mimi said, smiling, as she hopped of the examination table.  
  
Roger waved, and opened the door for Mimi.  
  
"You want to fill the prescription now?" he asked her.  
  
She nodded.  
  
Roger let out a whoosh of air. "So, was it as bad as you thought it would be?"  
  
"No," Mimi admitted. She paused, and a smile came over her face. "Shit, Roger, we're having TWINS."  
  
Roger grinned. "I know." He wrapped his arms around her waist and bent down to kiss her. Then he knelt down so his head was level with her abdomen.  
  
"You guys don't give your mom to much trouble in there, you hear?" he said, pretending to knock on her stomach.  
  
Mimi giggled. "Rog, people are staring."  
  
"So what?" he said, standing to his feet. "I'm going to be a father. I have a right to be crazily excited."  
  
"Yeah. Soon you'll be losing your hair and everything," Mimi teased.  
  
Roger's ran his hand through his hair. "Don't even JOKE about that," he said, a serious look on his face.  
  
Mimi laughed. "C'mon, let's go get this filled."  
  
***  
  
"Got any fours?" Mark asked Maureen.  
  
"Go fish," she answered.  
  
Mark took another card from the deck. "Shit," he mumbled, "I suck at this game."  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Jan said to him.  
  
The three of them were in Maureen and Joanne's apartment, waiting for the news of how Mimi's check-up went. Joanne was at her niece's bat mitzvah.  
  
"I bet it's a girl," Jan said, as she took another card from the deck.  
  
"You're smoking," Mark told her. "It's definitely a boy."  
  
"Well, we'll see, won't we?" she said, smiling.  
  
"Don't smile," he said.  
  
She frowned. "Why now?"  
  
"Because it makes me want to make violent love to you," he said, seriously.  
  
Maureen groaned and threw down her cards. "Jeez, Mark, you had to share that with all of us?"  
  
"Sorry, Mo," Mark said, as he and Jan grinned sheepishly at each other.  
  
"Forget it," Maureen groaned. She pulled her chair back away from the coffee table. "I don't feel like playing anymore. You two can finish up."  
  
She stood up and walked away.  
  
Mark turned to Jan. "What'd I say?"  
  
Jan shrugged. "Guess she didn't like hearing about our sex life."  
  
"Yeah. I'm going to make sure she's okay," Mark said, getting up from his seat. "Don't look at my cards," he joked.  
  
Jan smiled. "I won't."  
  
Mark found Maureen in her bedroom, sitting on her bed.  
  
"Hey, look, I didn't mean to bring that up in front of you," Mark said, sitting down beside her. "I know it probably ticked you off because we used to be, you know . . ."  
  
"It's not THAT, Mark," Maureen snapped, standing up and walking over to the other side of the room, not facing him.  
  
"What is it then?" he asked, confused.  
  
Maureen sighed. "It's just this whole baby thing . . . it makes me uncomfortable."  
  
"You want to have a baby?"  
  
"NO," Maureen snapped.  
  
"Well, can you help me out here, Mo, because I have no idea what you're trying to say."  
  
Maureen sighed, and sat back down on the bed, beside Mark.  
  
She paused a moment before speaking. "Don't tell this to Joanne, alright?"  
  
"Alright," he said, curious to know what she was talking about.  
  
"Okay," Maureen took a deep breath. "I was pregnant once," she said, softly.  
  
"What?" Mark exclaimed, not sure he was hearing her correctly.  
  
"I said, I was pregnant once," she said, louder this time.  
  
"I . . .God, Maureen, I . . . is it . . . was it . . ."  
  
"You weren't the father," Maureen assured him.  
  
Mark felt a tiny bit of relief. "Oh," he said, quietly. "Who was?" he asked.  
  
Maureen lowered her head. "Jimmy," she whispered.  
  
"Oh, jeez," Mark said, under his breath.  
  
"It wasn't on purpose. Jimmy didn't have a condom with him, and he assured me everything would be fine," Maureen said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"So . . . did you have it?" Mark asked, quietly.  
  
"No. I had an abortion."  
  
Mark nodded, slowly.  
  
"You probably think I'm a real moron now," Maureen said, giving a dry chuckle.  
  
"I don't," Mark protested.  
  
Maureen sighed. "It's okay. I was younger. I was stupider. I didn't know what I was getting into when I first got involved with Jimmy. He was the one who urged me to have the abortion."  
  
"You didn't want to?"  
  
"No," Maureen said in a small voice. "That's why I'm always uncomfortable when everyone talks about the baby. I mean, I'm thrilled for them, of course. But I wanted to keep that baby," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to have a little girl of my own."  
  
"I'm sorry," Mark said, not quite knowing what to say.  
  
"It's not your fault. You're not the one who told me to have an abortion, are you?"  
  
Mark could only shrug.  
  
Maureen sighed. "The procedure didn't go to well. The place Jimmy brought me to was cheap. Unsanitary. You could walk in there sicker than you came in. The doctor was a fuck-up. I probably couldn't have kids now, even if I tried."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mo," Mark said, quietly. "You should have told me earlier."  
  
"I know. I should have. When I first met you, it was a few months after I had broken up with Jimmy, and I was just trying to pretend it never happened. Like there was no Jimmy. That there'd never been a baby. But I guess those ghosts always come back to haunt you, huh?"  
  
Mark could only nod.  
  
"Anyway," Maureen sighed. "I'm sorry to bring all this up all of a sudden. I should have told you sooner."  
  
"It's alright," Mark assured her.  
  
Maureen smiled. "Thanks, Mark. You know, you're probably the best friend I ever had. Even more than Joanne. Don't tell her, though," she said, smiling.  
  
"I won't."  
  
Mark held out a hand toward her. "You want to finish the game?"  
  
Maureen let out a soft chuckle. "Why not?"  
  
She took his hand, and the two of them went back into the living room, where Jan was waiting patiently with the cards.  
  
***  
  
"Mark? Jan? Anyone here?" Roger called, as he and Mimi entered the loft.  
  
"Guess they're not here," he said, sounding disappointed. "I wanted to tell him the news. I guess it'll have to wait."  
  
He walked into the kitchen, spying an envelope on the table.  
  
"What's that?" Mimi asked, looking over his shoulder.  
  
"Dunno. It's addressed to me, though."  
  
"Well. Are you going to open it?"  
  
"I'm thinking I might just stare at it."  
  
"Dumbass. Open it," she grinned.  
  
Roger opened it. It was an invitation.  
  
"It's an invitation to Chad and Karmine's wedding," he said, sounding surprised.  
  
"Oh. I almost forgot they were getting married," Mimi said.  
  
Roger sighed, contently. "Yeah. Wonder if he'll make me his best man," he grinned at Mimi.  
  
Mimi shrugged and walked over to the refrigerator, grabbing an orange.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked her.  
  
"Nothing. It's just everywhere I go, no matter what I do, everything has to do with marriage, marriage, marriage."  
  
"So?"  
  
"I don't know," she said, fumbling with the orange peel. "I just thought maybe it could be something we could look into?"  
  
"Meems, we've got two babies along the way. Don't you think we should take care of that first, and wait for the babies to be born?" Roger laughed. "You wanna run down the aisle looking like a blimp? Besides, marriage is way complicated. You don't think we're ready for it, do you?"  
  
Mimi shrugged again, tossing the orange into the garbage, her appetite lost.  
  
"What's the matter with you?"  
  
Mimi whipped around. "What do you mean?" she snapped.  
  
Roger held out his hands in front of him, in defense. "Jeez, I'm just asking you if you're okay. You just went into bitch-mode all of a sudden."  
  
"Well I think I have a right to be a bitch, when you're making fun of me for trying to discuss a serious topic with you," she snapped.  
  
"Meems, I didn't know you were serious," he said.  
  
"Of course not," Mimi said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Would you stop doing that?" Roger demanded, getting angrier.  
  
"Doing what?" she growled.  
  
"THAT. Fucking snapping at everything I say."  
  
"Well, I'm mad at you, okay?!" she yelled.  
  
"Why? Because I don't want to juggle having kids and getting married at the same time?" he snapped.  
  
"No, because you're not taking me seriously!"  
  
"Mimi, we can't get married now- I mean, we've got Chad's wedding coming up, and then there's the band, and-"  
  
"Everything's about the band, isn't it?" she growled. "Why don't we name one of the babies 'Well,' and the other one 'Hungarian?'"  
  
"You know that's not true . . ."  
  
"It is!" she snapped.  
  
"God, I knew pregnant women had mood swings, but this is just ridiculous, Mimi."  
  
"Then why don't you just go," Mimi grumbled.  
  
"Why are you being so difficult?" he asked, exasperated.  
  
"Because I'm pregnant and I'm entitled to be as difficult as I want to," she yelled. "And whenever I've brought up the subject of marriage, you just shrug it off!"  
  
"Fine, you want to know why I get uncomfortable whenever you talk about getting married?" he yelled back at her.  
  
Mimi placed her hands on her hips, waiting for an answer.  
  
"It's because April asked me to marry her once. We were going to, too. But that obviously didn't work, did it?!" he was shouting, but Mimi could see the sadness in his eyes.  
  
"It always goes back to April," Mimi snapped.  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"She's your excuse for everything. If it's not April, it's the band."  
  
"At least April CARED about my devotion to the band," Roger grumbled.  
  
"And I'm worried for the babies. That they're going to be positive," Mimi continued. "I mean, if it wasn't for APRIL there wouldn't be as much of a chance."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"You got AIDS from April, Roger. And God knows where SHE got it from!"  
  
"Don't you talk about her like that," he growled.  
  
"Why?" she demanded.  
  
"You're one to talk. Who knows how the hell YOU got it. By sleeping around like a whore, maybe? Both before AND after your stepfather kicked you out of the house?" he screamed at her  
  
"Fuck you," Mimi said, quietly.  
  
"God, I don't know how the fuck we're going to be able to keep a family together if we can't even spend a fucking day together without screaming at each other," he shouted.  
  
"Then maybe we shouldn't consider marriage at all, if you think all we do is fight," Mimi yelled.  
  
"FINE! Wasn't my idea anyway!"  
  
"FINE!"  
  
"FINE!"  
  
Mimi stormed out of the kitchen, and Roger heard the bedroom door slam.  
  
"And don't break the fucking door down!" he shouted.  
  
"FUCK YOU!"  
  
Roger sighed and put his head in his hands.  
  
He heard a key turn in the lock, and lifted his head to see Mark enter.  
  
"I don't know what happened," he said, "But all I heard were a bunch of 'Fuck you's!' so I'm guessing it isn't good."  
  
"Mimi's having mood swings. It's almost crazy. She was asking me about getting married."  
  
"That's not crazy. I don't think she's just bringing that up because she's pregnant, either."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Jan told me Mimi mentions it sometimes, casually."  
  
Roger sighed. "God, I'm such a fucktard."  
  
"Don't be so hard on yourself," Mark said, trying not to smile.  
  
"When she told me she wanted to get married I made fun of her and told her she'd look like a blimp coming down the aisle."  
  
Mark winced. "Ouch."  
  
"Yeah." Roger sighed. "I should really go apologize, but I'm afraid she'll start chucking things at me."  
  
"PMS is a bitch," Mark agreed. "I know Jan's always bitchy around that time."  
  
'Thanks, Mark," Roger rolled his eyes. "I really needed to know that."  
  
Mark shrugged. "I'm just trying to help."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
Mark paused. "Look, I was going to head to the Life Café for something to eat. You want to come?"  
  
Roger sighed. "I guess so. I don't think Mimi's planning on leaving the bedroom anytime soon."  
  
"Great. Just the two of us. Like old times," Mark said, trying to cheer him up.  
  
Roger forced a smile.  
  
"She'll have let off all her steam by the time you get back," Mark assured him.  
  
Roger sighed. "I hope so."  
  
***  
  
Mimi slid into a pair of Roger's old sweatpants, not bothering to change her top.  
  
She slid into the bed, pulling the pillow over her head.  
  
Why the fuck did I react like that? She asked herself.  
  
She knew it was inconsiderate of her to talk about April like that in front of him. But she'd wanted to hurt him. She'd wanted to make him feel the pain that she was feeling.  
  
God, pre-pregnant mood swings were a bitch.  
  
Mimi sighed, as she closed her eyes.  
  
Hopefully he'd be steamed off by the time he returned. She needed to apologize to him.  
  
*** Mimi woke up in the middle of the night.  
  
She glanced at the clock. It was two in the morning.  
  
Her stomach felt like it was tied up into knots.  
  
"Fuck," she groaned, and barely made it to the bathroom in time.  
  
Kneeling beside the toilet, she vomited, miserably.  
  
Roger hadn't been in the bed beside her when she'd gotten up.  
  
What if he wasn't coming back?  
  
Stop that, she scolded herself. He was probably just having a late night out with Mark.  
  
But what if he was just angry with her and didn't plan on coming back? Her brain asked her.  
  
Before she could answer herself, she felt more bile beginning to rise in her throat, and again, she vomited.  
  
Exhausted, she pressed her cheek against the cool porcelain, trying to cool herself down.  
  
A few seconds later she was throwing up again, and then when the nausea didn't go away, she began to dry heave into the bowl.  
  
Where the fuck was Roger?  
  
Mimi began to cry, out of misery, and self pity, and fear. She coughed and choked as she became sick again. She continued to sob.  
  
Suddenly, she felt hands on her waist, and she didn't need to turn her head to know it was Roger.  
  
"It's alright, baby," he whispered into her ear.  
  
He held her hair back behind her head as she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl, rubbing her back gently as she cried between getting sick.  
  
Finally, when the nausea had faded, Mimi pushed herself away from the toilet, exhausted and weeping..  
  
"You're okay, baby," Roger whispered, kissing her forehead, which was clammy with sweat.  
  
"I'm sorry," Mimi whimpered, "For what I said before."  
  
"So am I," he said, softly.  
  
He helped her to her feet and guided her back into the bedroom.  
  
Mimi fell asleep in seconds, exhausted from being sick.  
  
Roger wrapped his arms protectively around her body, his lips pressed against her ear. He felt her chest move up and down with her weepy breath.  
  
Moments later, he faded into the depths of sleep. 


	29. On the Brighter Side

FEBRUARY 2  
  
"Mark?" Jan called as she hopped over dozens of cardboard boxes, three wooden chairs and a table on her way down the hall to the loft.  
  
"Hey, Jan," He greeted her from the open door.  
  
"What the hell is all this stuff doing out here?" she asked, as she leapt over another box.  
  
"Roger and Mimi are turning the dining room into a nursery for the babies. Since we never use it."  
  
"Oh. Well you ought to move all that out of there, before someone seriously hurts themselves."  
  
"Will do. They're selling the furniture."  
  
"What's in the boxes?"  
  
"Old china and silverware, stuff like that."  
  
Jan nodded, slowly.  
  
"What's the matter?"  
  
"I just got a call from my mother. My great aunt Patricia died in her sleep this weekend."  
  
"I'm sorry," Mark said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"  
  
Jan shrugged, "Yeah, I'm okay. I only met her a few times. Most of them were when April and I were little."  
  
Mark nodded, rubbing his hand up and down her arm, comfortingly.  
  
"The thing is, the funeral's next week, and my parents want me to stay at their place for the next two weeks. The whole family's gathering up there. So I won't be able to go to Chad and Karmine's wedding with you. I'm sorry."  
  
"Jan, it's fine," Mark assured her. "I totally understand."  
  
Jan chewed on the corner of her lip. "Are sure?"  
  
"Yes," he insisted, "You can't help a family crisis."  
  
Jan smiled. "Okay. Thanks for understanding. I was afraid you'd be upset that I wouldn't be able to come to the wedding with you."  
  
"Nah, it's cool. I'll probably end up dancing with Roger's sister, Rachel . . ."  
  
Jan raised her eyebrows.  
  
" . . .Who's ten," he finished.  
  
Jan laughed. "Oh, so now you're a cradle-robber?"  
  
"You know it," Mark said, leaning in to kiss her on the lips.  
  
Jan giggled and pushed her dirty blonde hair behind her ears. "Does Roger know of your future plans?"  
  
Mark put a finger to his lips. "Haven't told him yet . . . shhhh."  
  
"I won't tell," Jan said, winking.  
  
"Mark, Jan, tell me what you think," Mimi announced, as she walked into the room. In each hand she held a sample of paint color in each hand.  
  
"Okay, tell me which you like better," she said, pressing them both against the wall. "Lavender with an Off-White trim? Or Off-White with a lavender trim?"  
  
"I think the Lavender with an Off-White trim looks nice," Jan offered.  
  
"Mimi, has it occurred to you that you might have boys? Not just girls?" Mark asked her.  
  
"Yeah. So?"  
  
"Well, personally, if I was a boy, I wouldn't want to be in a pink room."  
  
Mimi groaned. "Fuck, Mark, did you have to point that out? Now my whole idea is ruined."  
  
"Sorry," Mark said, quickly.  
  
"I'm sure the color won't matter to the babies . . . at least not when they're first born," Jan said quickly, but Mimi had already turned on her heel, yelling, "Roger! We need to pick a different color!"  
  
"I shouldn't have set her off like that," Mark said, once she'd left.  
  
"It's not your fault. She's pregnant, she's going to be feeling moody for a while now."  
  
"Yeah, you're right. Poor Roger."  
  
"What about poor Roger?" Roger asked, as he walked into the room.  
  
"Nothing," Mark said, "Do you guys know what color you're painting the walls?"  
  
"Yup. We decided to go with Lime Green walls, with a White trim."  
  
"Lime green?"  
  
"Hey, it's not as bad as it sounds. It'll turn out fine."  
  
"I'm sure it will," Jan assured him.  
  
"Thanks. So Mimi and I are going to go and get the paint, and the rollers. We're going to paint the walls later this afternoon. You guys game?"  
  
"I can't" Jan apologized, "I've got to go back to my place and start packing for my parents' place."  
  
"You're leaving TODAY?" Mark exclaimed.  
  
Jan winced. "Tomorrow."  
  
"Shit."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mark, I tried to work out just staying over the weekend with my parents."  
  
"It's not that," he said, "I just thought I'd be able to spend some more time with you."  
  
"When I get back, we'll have all the time in the world," she assured him, smiling.  
  
Mark smiled back.  
  
Roger began to hum to the tune of 'L-O-V-E.'  
  
"Shut up!" Mark snapped, snapping out of his reverie to kick Roger's foot.  
  
Roger laughed. "Sorry, you were going all loopy on me."  
  
Mark rolled his eyes and turned to Jan. "So you have to leave now?"  
  
Jan winced and nodded.  
  
"Okay," Mark sighed, gloomily. He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "I guess I'll see you in two weeks, then?" he asked.  
  
Jan nodded. "Of course."  
  
"'Tis twenty year 'til then," Mark sighed, dramatically.  
  
Roger laughed. "Hello! Get this boy some help! He's reciting lines from Romeo and Juliet!"  
  
"Two weeks, Romeo," Jan winked at Mark, and giving him a quick peck on the cheek.  
  
She grabbed her purse and gave one final wave before closing the door quietly behind her.  
  
"You gonna be alright?" Roger asked Mark.  
  
Mark shrugged. "Yeah, it's only two weeks."  
  
"Two weeks can feel like forever."  
  
Mark shrugged again. "I'll be alright."  
  
"Alright, if you're sure," Roger said. "You wanna come with me and Mimi to get the paint?"  
  
Mark furrowed his eyebrows. "Um, it sounds like fun, but . . ."  
  
Roger laughed, "It's alright, you don't have to come."  
  
Mark grinned. "Thanks"  
  
"No problem. What'll you do in the meanwhile?"  
  
Mark shrugged. "Read something. Sleep. Glory in my own misery," he joked.  
  
Roger rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ready to go, babe?" Mimi asked Roger, as she came in.  
  
"Yup," Roger said to her.  
  
He turned to Mark. "So I'll see you later, then?"  
  
Mark nodded.  
  
"Okay. Bye," Roger said, as he and Mimi left the Loft.  
  
Mark gave a long sigh and wandered into his bedroom and shut the door.  
  
***  
  
"Pookie, will you get that?" Maureen yelled at Joanne from the bathroom, as the phone began to sing.  
  
"I can't! I've got my hands full!"  
  
"Never mind, I've got it," Maureen called back, flushing the toilet as she got up and ran over to the phone.  
  
"Hello?" she said, breathlessly.  
  
"Maureen, it's Oliver- wait, don't hang up yet, I've got something important to tell you."  
  
"What is it?" she growled.  
  
"Alright, so I showed one of your paintings to another agent, who's been looking to purchase pieces of art for her own line . . ."  
  
"How did you get my artwork?" she demanded.  
  
"Jimmy showed me one or two paintings that you'd left behind at the gallery . . ."  
  
Maureen groaned. "That fuck."  
  
"Anyway, Maureen, this woman s offering you a really great deal- she'd pay you a large amount of money for both of the paintings, and she'd show it in her line- she'd give you total credit, of course, along with the other artists."  
  
Maureen thought about it for a moment. "How much?" she asked, carefully.  
  
Oliver told her.  
  
Maureen's eyes widened.  
  
"It's a good deal, right?"  
  
"Yes," Maureen admitted.  
  
"So that's for the two paintings that Jimmy showed to me EACH. But what would REALLY be the bread-winner would be that huge collage you made. You know, the one where you have magazine cut-outs of different places in the city . . ."  
  
"Reality Check."  
  
"Yeah, that's it."  
  
"That one's of sentimental value," Maureen said. She didn't bother to tell him that it was because pictures of her friends were in it. He'd probably been too ignorant to realize it, anyway.  
  
"Are you sure? Because that's your best piece, Maureen."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
"But the other two you're fine with?"  
  
"Which ones are they, exactly?"  
  
"Perspective of a Petal and Moonlit Night."  
  
"Oh." Maureen twirled her short curly hair around her finger, anxiously.  
  
"So it's okay with you?"  
  
"Yes. Yes, it's fine."  
  
"Okay, that's great! This is going to be great for you, Maureen."  
  
"Alright," she said, flatly. She didn't want him to think she'd forgiven him for that day.  
  
"So I'll speak with you later, then?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Alright. Talk to you later."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Maureen hung up the phone.  
  
"Who was that?" Joanne asked, as she entered the room, toweling off her hands.  
  
"It was Oliver," Maureen said, and she told her what had happened.  
  
Joanne's eyes widened. "Honey, that's FANTASTIC!" she exclaimed, hugging Maureen tightly. "I'm so proud of you!"  
  
"Thanks," Maureen giggled, hugging her back.  
  
"Have you heard from the agent yet?"  
  
"No, but Oliver's going to call me back later to go over more details."  
  
"You're not selling 'Reality Check,' are you?"  
  
Maureen shook her head. "No. I told him that one's not for sale."  
  
"Good," Joanne breathed. "I'd never let you sell that."  
  
"I know," Maureen said, smiling.  
  
Joanne linked her hand through Maureen's. "You want to go out to celebrate?"  
  
"Just the two of us?"  
  
"Sure, why not?"  
  
"Okay. Where?"  
  
Joanne shrugged. "The Life Café. Anywhere."  
  
"Anywhere BUT The Life Café. I think Seb's getting fed up with us," Maureen laughed.  
  
"Somewhere else, then. Lunch's on me," Joanne announced.  
  
Maureen grinned. "Thanks, Pookie."  
  
"No problem. You ready to go now?"  
  
"I'll go get my coat."  
  
***  
  
"This is so fucking heavy," Mimi complained, as she lugged the can of paint into what was now going to be partially turned into the nursery.  
  
"Here, let me," Roger said, retrieving it from her.  
  
Mimi smiled. "Thanks, baby."  
  
"No problem. So . . ." he looked around them. "You wanna do this ourselves?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Sure. How hard can it be? Just let me change into some old clothes so I don't get any of mine messed up."  
  
"Alright."  
  
A moment later, Mimi returned.  
  
"Old clothes, huh?" Roger smirked.  
  
Mimi was wearing an oversized T-shirt of his, and a pair of his torn jeans that were about twenty sizes to big on her.  
  
"You don't mind, do you?" she asked, tying her hair back up into two messy buns on either side of her head.  
  
"Not at all."  
  
"Good," she grinned. "Is Mark going to help us?"  
  
"Nope. He went out."  
  
"Alrighty, then." Mimi stared at the tray of Lime Green paint, and the rollers. "How the fuck do I do this?"  
  
"Haven't you ever painted anything before?" Roger asked her.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Just roll the roller into the paint, and roll it out onto the wall." He showed her how. "Nothing to it."  
  
"Okay," Mimi said, picking up a roller that was twice her size. "Let's get to it."  
  
About an hour passed by, and they were finishing up on one of the walls.  
  
Suddenly, a mischievous mood came upon Roger.  
  
He glanced down at the roller he had, which was covered in paint, and then he glanced at Mimi, who was busily painting the wall, obliviously. She had a speck of green paint on the tip of her nose, but she continued on, not caring.  
  
Roger stifled a giggle as he raised his paint roller, and quickly pressed it against her cheek.  
  
Mimi dropped her roller, startled. "What the fuck was that for?" she demanded.  
  
Roger laughed. He couldn't help it. She looked too ridiculous standing there in clothes that were for someone ten times her size, and paint smeared across her face.  
  
Mimi's anger soon faded away.  
  
"You're going to get it now," she warned, picking her roller back up.  
  
She aimed for Roger's face, but he quickly turned his back to her, so she caught his shoulder.  
  
"My turn!" he announced, picking up an extra paintbrush and smearing it across her forehead.  
  
"Roger!" she squealed, as they began to dab at each other with the paint.  
  
"You look like Bozo the clown," she noted, as she splashed the paint onto his nose.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know, when you see those commercials for The Big Apple Circus?"  
  
"You're saying I look like a clown?" Roger exclaimed, pretending to be angry. "Now you're going to get it.  
  
He picked up the nearly empty bucket of paint, and poured it onto her head.  
  
"ROGER! YOU FUCKTARD!" she exclaimed, between giggles, "That was the last of the fucking paint!"  
  
"We have two other buckets," he said, winking at her.  
  
"You asshole!" she shrieked, throwing herself at him and knocking him to the ground.  
  
They were rolling around on the wooden floor, covering each other in paint when Mark entered the apartment.  
  
"I thought mud wrestling was for pigs," he said, observing the two of them.  
  
Mimi held up a brush. "You want some?"  
  
"No," he said, quickly, practically bolting into his room.  
  
"That's what I thought," Mimi giggled, dropping the brush down.  
  
Roger looked around the room. "We really made a mess."  
  
Mimi nuzzled her now paint-covered cheek into Roger's shoulder. "Yeah. But that was the most fun I've had in a long time," she laughed.  
  
"Yeah, but we should still clean it up. You wanna go take a shower, and I'll start wiping this up?"  
  
"You sure?" she asked him, standing to her feet.  
  
Roger nodded. "Yeah, it's fine."  
  
Mimi turned to go.  
  
"Mimi?"  
  
"Yeah?" Mimi said, turning around.  
  
She yelped when she saw Roger reaching out towards her with one of the rollers, and quickly ducked into the bathroom and locked the door.  
  
Roger chuckled softly, and began to mop up the mess, whistling to himself joyously.  
  
a/n: Yeah, Mimi and Roger + Paint = Big Mess. But that was fun. Anyway, I know I've been an ass about updating, but I'm a lazy old fart, what can you do? I hope you liked Roger's musical 'numbers.' ;-) 


	30. Rehearsal Disaster

"This looks great," Collins commented, as he entered what was now a nursery in the loft.  
  
"You think?" Roger said, looking at the pastel-colored walls and white- carpeted floor.  
  
"Yep. Hard to believe it was a dining room yesterday," Collins said, rubbing his hand against the freshly painted wall. "How long did it take you?"  
  
"Most of the day," said Mimi, coming up behind the two of them. "Collins, you've gotta keep an eye on Pepper. I found her with Roger's shoe in her mouth?"  
  
"My shoe?" Roger said, puzzled.  
  
"You leave your shit all over the floor," Mimi laughed. "She just basically ripped up everything in her way."  
  
"Fuck," Roger grumbled.  
  
Before he could say anything more, the phone began to ring.  
  
"Hello?" Roger answered, picking up the phone as he jogged into the other room.  
  
Mimi came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, and waited while Roger talked on the phone.  
  
"Hey, Mitch! No kidding? That's great, congratulations! Tell Karen I send my regards. No problem. You too, bye!"  
  
He hung up the phone.  
  
"What'd Mitch say?" asked Mimi.  
  
Roger turned to face Mimi, putting his arms around her narrow shoulders.  
  
"Karen had the baby," he said, excitedly.  
  
"Really?" Mimi's eyes widened in surprise.  
  
"Yup. She was almost two months late, but she finally came. Her name's Eva."  
  
"I hope our babies cooperate well," Mimi said, placing her hands on her stomach.  
  
"Sure they will," Roger declared, poking her in the middle, gently. "You two behave in there, you hear?"  
  
"Stop," Mimi giggled, pushing his arm away.  
  
At that moment, Pepper wandered into the room, her nose planted against the floor.  
  
"Do you mind?" Roger demanded.  
  
Pepper turned to Roger, and stared back at him, blankly. She took a few more steps, and raised her leg against the refrigerator.  
  
"Shit!" Roger cried, diving to the floor and swooping Pepper into his arms before she could let loose on the kitchen floor.  
  
"There she is!" Collins said, as he came into the kitchen.  
  
"You were hiding from Uncle Collins, is that it?" he cooed, taking the dog from Roger's arms.  
  
"Christ, Collins, what has she done to you?" Roger exclaimed.  
  
"What do you mean?" Collins asked, staring lovingly into the dog's eyes, unconsciously.  
  
"Dogs can do that to you," Mimi laughed. "I remember I once had one. An Irish something. It was really sweet. Until Daisha broke its hind leg by accident." She made a face. "It wouldn't come anywhere near us after that."  
  
"Sorry about that."  
  
"Hey!" Mimi exclaimed, as she turned to face her younger sister. "I haven't seen you in forever! Is Isabella here?"  
  
"Nope. Just me."  
  
"How'd you get here then?" Mimi asked, frowning.  
  
Daisha retrieved a small plastic permit from her pocket.  
  
"Daish! You got your permit! That's great!" Mimi exclaimed, hugging her.  
  
"Yeah, all those lessons you and Joanne gave me actually turned out to be helpful," Daisha laughed. "I got it during the week."  
  
"You don't have your own car, though?"  
  
"Nah, Mom let me borrow hers."  
  
"How is she?"  
  
"Fine. She can't wait for those kids to pop out, though."  
  
"Tell her neither can I," Mimi said, laughing. "I don't know how much more of this morning sickness I can take."  
  
"It hasn't gotten any better?" Collins asked.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "It's actually gotten worse. I went to the doctor about it, and they said it's to be expected, since I'm having twins. It's a bitch."  
  
"Well, only seven months left," Roger reminded her.  
  
"Yeah, it's that's the only thing that gets me up in the mornings," Mimi joked.  
  
"Where's Mark?" Daisha asked. "The three of you are like the three stooges- you're always together."  
  
"He went for a walk," Roger said, ignoring the three stooges comment.  
  
"Jan's at her parent's house, so he's gone into a temporary state of depression," Mimi informed her.  
  
Daisha made a sympathetic face. "Aw, poor guy. Tell him I hope he feels better."  
  
"Thanks, Daish. I'm sure he'll be fine, though. She'll be back in less than two weeks."  
  
Daisha shrugged.  
  
"Love makes us do crazy things," said Roger, jokingly.  
  
"You ain't just whistling Dixie," Collins said, staring at Pepper.  
  
"I think we'd better tell Frankie that Collins here is having an affair with her dog," Roger said, poking Mimi in the side.  
  
"Hey, I'm a sensitive guy," Collins complained.  
  
"A month ago you were ready to throw her into the street," Roger said, referring to Pepper.  
  
"Me? No! Just look at her!" and Pepper looked up at them adoringly, as if to prove a point.  
  
Roger rolled his eyes and shook his head.  
  
"So . . . are you going to name one of the babies after me?" Daisha joked.  
  
"What if it's a boy?"  
  
"Call is Daisha anyway."  
  
"I was thinking of maybe naming one of them after Mama."  
  
"Alright, then. Conchita Daisha."  
  
"Don't get your hopes up," Mimi said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"God, I can't wait for them to be born! I can't believe I'm going to be an aunt."  
  
"Do I get to be Uncle Collins?" Collins asked.  
  
"And Aunt Jan and Aunt Maureen and Aunt Joanne and Aunt Frankie too?" Roger joked.  
  
"Christ, these kids are gonna have a huge family," Daisha said.  
  
"I'm home," Mark called, flatly, as he entered the room.  
  
"Don't act so thrilled to see us," Roger said.  
  
"Sorry. Not feeling to great today."  
  
"Mark, she'll be home in less then two weeks."  
  
"I know," Mark sighed, "But I still feel like all I wanna do is just sit around the Loft and mope around."  
  
Pepper began to whine in Collins's arms.  
  
"I should take her back downstairs to Frankie," he apologized, hooking her leash onto the loop of her collar. "Before she raises hell."  
  
"No problem. See you around," Roger said.  
  
"Bye guys. Nice seeing you, Daisha. Hope you feel better, Mark," he called over his shoulder, before leaving.  
  
"That's not very likely," Mark grumbled.  
  
"I should be going too. I just stopped by to say hello. Mom's probably wondering where I am," Daisha apologized.  
  
"Don't worry, hon. I'm glad you stopped bye. I've missed you."  
  
Daisha grinned. "Just wait until those kids are born. Then you won't be able to get rid of me."  
  
"I'm counting the hours," Mimi joked. "Now get out of here."  
  
"See you guys later," Daisha said, and left.  
  
"And then there were three," Roger said.  
  
"Make that two. I'm going to into my room," Mark said, in an unenthusiastic voice.  
  
"Alright. Have fun." Roger and Mimi watched him go.  
  
"I didn't think Jan leaving would be so hard for him," Mimi said, walking over to the refrigerator, and retrieving a pint of pistachio ice cream from the freezer.  
  
"He can be pretty angsty sometimes. Where are you going with that?"  
  
"Who're you? The Freezer Police?" Mimi asked, as she grabbed a spoon from the counter.  
  
"You're gonna eat that whole thing?"  
  
"I'm pregnant. I can eat whatever I want."  
  
"I better start stocking up on the pickles and yogurt."  
  
"Not a bad idea," she said, smiling at him.  
  
She walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch, with Roger trailing behind her.  
  
"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Mimi asked, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.  
  
"Um . . ."  
  
"What's um?" Mimi dug her spoon into the ice cream and held it out towards Roger. "Want some?"  
  
"Are you going to spoon feed me?" he asked, wickedly.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes. "Sure. And I'll burp you and nurse you as well."  
  
"I wouldn't mind that last part," Roger grinned.  
  
"Roger! I'm eating!" Mimi complained, flicking the ice cream at him. It landed on the couch.  
  
Roger picked it up and put it into his mouth.  
  
"Pig," Mimi said, placing the pint aside. "I think I've lost my appetite."  
  
"Sorry," Roger said, but he was smiling.  
  
"Ugh," Mimi said, putting her feet up on his lap. "I can't eat anything right now. I'm too scared that it'll just come up again."  
  
"Sorry, baby," Roger said, sympathetically.  
  
"It's not your fault." She paused. "Actually, it is," she laughed.  
  
"Sorry," Roger said again. He lifted up her leg and began to massage her foot.  
  
"Mmm that feels good," Mimi murmured.  
  
"So, I got a call from Chad this morning," Roger said, continuing to massage her foot.  
  
"And?"  
  
"He wants the band to play at the wedding, and he wants me to come down there tonight to practice with the guys."  
  
"Oh, NOW I see why you're sucking up?" Mimi said, grinning.  
  
Roger bit his lip. "Are you mad?"  
  
Mimi sighed. "No. Don't worry about it."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"It's fine. What time are you going?"  
  
"Eight thirty."  
  
"Well," she glanced at the clock on the opposite side of the room. "That means you've got another half an hour to massage my feet."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You want to go, don't you?"  
  
"You are very evil, Miss Marquez," Roger said, beginning to tickle her foot.  
  
"Eek! Okay! Stop! I'm just kidding," Mimi giggled, wrestling her feet away from him.  
  
"You'd better be," Roger warned, jokingly. Then he got serious for a moment. "So you're sure it's okay?"  
  
"Yes, Roger, I'm sure."  
  
"Thanks," he smiled, and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. "So I'll see you tonight, then?"  
  
"I don't have anywhere else to be," she said, smiling.  
  
"Okay. Don't wait up, I don't know how long Chad's gonna make me stay."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Bye." Roger kissed her on the lips.  
  
"Bye, baby. Have fun."  
  
"Tons," he groaned, as he headed for the door.  
  
"Roger?" she called, just before his hand touched the doorknob.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"We'll take a rain check?"  
  
"On what?"  
  
"My feet?"  
  
Roger shook his head, laughing. "You're very dominating."  
  
"You know it. Have a good time."  
  
"Bye." He blew her a kiss, before closing the door behind him.  
  
***  
  
"Anyone home?" Roger called, as he reentered the Loft.  
  
Rehearsal had bit the big one. Chad was stressing about both the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, and the wedding in nine days.  
  
"Mimi? Mark?" Roger called, walking into the living room. To his surprise, Mark was asleep on the couch, his blanket had fallen onto the floor.  
  
"Mark?" Roger said, gently, shaking him awake.  
  
"Roger?" Mark whispered, grabbing his glasses and shoving them onto his face.  
  
"Hi. Why are you sleeping in here?"  
  
"I was waiting for you. Mimi's in the hospital. She . . ."  
  
"WHAT?!" Roger exclaimed.  
  
"She got sick again while you were out. She was throwing up, and it was a lot worse than usual. She passed out, and Maureen and I drove her to the hospital. They said she was overly dehydrated, and they're keeping her there overnight. I would be there now, but they kicked me out."  
  
"Jesus Christ," Roger breathed. "I'm going there now."  
  
"Rog, they won't let anyone in."  
  
"I don't give a shit. My girlfriend's in there, and I want to see her."  
  
"How are you going to get there?"  
  
"I'll get Maureen to give me a ride."  
  
Roger turned around and headed for the door. He stopped suddenly, and turned to face Mark. "You coming?"  
  
***  
  
"This is completely against hospital policy!" a nurse shouted after Mark and Roger, as they ran into Mimi's room.  
  
Roger burst through the door, with Mark right behind him.  
  
Mimi's eyes fluttered open when she heard the door open.  
  
"Roger?" she said, groggily.  
  
"God, Mimi, are you okay?" he breathed, kneeling beside the bed.  
  
"I'm okay now. Thank God Mark was there, though," she said, weakly. Her brunette curls were matted against her forehead, and she looked unusually pale.  
  
"What happened?" Roger exclaimed.  
  
"I don't know. I fell asleep, and then in the middle of the night I felt nauseous, so I ran into the bathroom to throw up. But it wasn't something that went away, I just kept on going, and then finally I guess I passed out. I woke up here."  
  
"Jesus," Roger whispered. "I'm so sorry. I should have been here."  
  
Mimi smiled, weakly. "It's not your fault. The doctor said since I'm having twins, the nausea's going to be worse than that of someone just having one baby. They told me the reason it was so bad was because I've been dehydrated, and they want me to keep drinking liquids, and they're going to keep me an extra night just for observation."  
  
"I'm so sorry, baby," Roger said again, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.  
  
"Rog, it's okay now. I'm going to miss the rehearsal dinner tomorrow, though," she said, wincing. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I won't go either," Roger said. "I'll stay here with you."  
  
"Roger, I don't wanna be a burden. Besides, you have to be there. You're Chad's best man."  
  
"Damn it," Roger swore.  
  
"Rog, it'll be fine."  
  
"Yeah, the last time you said that I came home to find out you were in the hospital."  
  
"That was just this once. Besides, I'm fine now."  
  
"I just wish I could have been here for you," he whispered.  
  
Suddenly, the nurse that had been chasing Roger and Mark early on burst into the room.  
  
"Young man, you and your friend need to leave- NOW. This is completely against hospital policy. Unless the patient is seriously ill or dying, you cannot be here past nine."  
  
Roger groaned. "All right, cool it. I'll come back tomorrow," he promised Mimi.  
  
She smiled. "Okay."  
  
Roger kissed her cool forehead. "Feel better."  
  
"Young man . . ." the nurse said, in a warning tone.  
  
"Jesus Christ, I'm coming!" Roger snapped, standing to his feet.  
  
He and Mark followed the nurse out the door.  
  
Roger waved, weakly at Mimi before the nurse closed the door, sharply.  
  
a/n: Happy Hannumas, Mari! 


	31. The Wedding

FEBUARY 3RD  
  
"How was it?" Mimi asked Roger as he stumbled into the Loft.  
  
The doctors had agreed to let Mimi go home, but they had strongly advised that she stay home and rest rather than go to big events like the rehearsal dinner.  
  
"It was a bitch," Roger grumbled, kicking off his shoes off into a corner of the room. "Chad was all uptight about everything. Just being really bossy. Then again, I can't really blame him. He IS getting married in less than a week."  
  
He paused, and then walked over to Mimi and wrapped his arms around her waist. "How've you been feeling?"  
  
Mimi smiled. "Better. I didn't feel as sick as I did before. Probably because I don't have anything left in me to get sick off of," she said, making a face.  
  
Roger sighed. "I felt really bad leaving you here alone."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Mimi said softly rubbing her hand against his sleeve.  
  
"Well, Mark's happy now. She surprised him at the dinner. Turns out she won't need to be leaving until March."  
  
"That's good. I'm guessing Mark's at Jan's, then?"  
  
"When is he NOT at Jan's?" Roger said, shaking his head.  
  
Mimi laughed. "Well, now you know how he probably felt when you'd stay over at my place all the time."  
  
Roger thought about that for a moment. "True," he said, slowly.  
  
Mimi smiled and walked over to the couch, retrieving a list she'd written in her neat, loopy script.  
  
"Look what I did while you guys were gone," she said, holding it out towards him triumphantly.  
  
Roger took the list from her and eyed it closely. "Corey, James, Joy, Aimee. . . what is this, Meems?" he asked, frowning.  
  
"It's a list of some baby names I came up with," Mimi said, standing on her tiptoes so she could look at the list over Roger's shoulder. "Do you like them?"  
  
"I like the name Joy," he said. "But Meems, don't you think it's a little earlier to be thinking of baby names? I mean, you're not even three months yet."  
  
Mimi shrugged. "It's never too earlier. Besides, I needed SOMETHING to do while you were out."  
  
"You're right," he agreed. "Jeez, I would have rather stayed home with you though than go to the rehearsal dinner. You should have seen me and Chad going at it," he sighed.  
  
"It's hard being a best man, isn't it?" Mimi crooned, beginning to massage his shoulders.  
  
"It is," he murmured, closing his eyes.  
  
"Well, whatever Chad and Karmine think, you're still MY best man," Mimi teased.  
  
Roger smiled, taking her hands in his. "Maybe after the babies are born we can start thinking about our own marriage?"  
  
Mimi's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean it?"  
  
Roger nodded, still smiling.  
  
"Oh, Roger," Mimi whispered, unable to help the tears from coming to the corners of her eyes.  
  
"Hey, no crying," Roger chided, jokingly.  
  
Mimi smiled. "Sorry."  
  
"Besides, you're gonna be enough stressed out with those two inside you as it is."  
  
Mimi groaned. "Don't remind me."  
  
"So, what do you think we're gonna have?" he asked, rubbing her shoulders gently.  
  
"Girls," Mimi declared. "I can't imagine having two mini-Rogers' around the house."  
  
"I wouldn't mind having two miniature me's around the house," Roger said, thoughtfully.  
  
Mimi shoved him over, playfully. "Please. I've got enough on my mind as it is," she laughed.  
  
She got up from the couch to throw out the carton of yogurt that she'd eaten earlier.  
  
"Hey, Meems?" Roger called after her.  
  
Mimi turned around.  
  
"What about Roger Davis Jr.?" he asked, wickedly.  
  
Mimi smiled and shook her head and went back into the kitchen.  
  
***  
  
FEBUARY 10th  
  
"FUCK!"  
  
Mimi woke up the next morning to hear Roger's screaming.  
  
Yawning, she pushed her blanket aside and carefully stood to her feet. She and Roger had both fallen asleep on the couch while watching a movie late last night.  
  
"What is it, Rog?" she called, walking into the bedroom.  
  
"Pepper took a crap on my suit!" he cried, showing it to her. In the corner, the little dog cowered, with a defiant smirk on its face.  
  
Collins and Frankie had left Pepper at the Loft while they visited Frankie's relatives.  
  
"What happened?" Mark asked, yawning as he entered the room with Jan behind him, barely awake.  
  
"That dumbass dog crapped right on the suit I'm supposed to wear to the wedding today!" Roger cried.  
  
"Oh, um, that sucks," Mark said, unable to hide a smile.  
  
"It's not funny!" Roger groaned. "I can't go to the wedding with a shit stain on my pants!"  
  
"We can take it to the dry cleaners," Mimi assured him. "You'll get it back just in time for the wedding."  
  
"You want me to go call Maureen, since she's the only one with a car?" Jan offered.  
  
Roger nodded his head. "Yeah. Thanks."  
  
Jan turned to Mark. "I'll see you in a little while," she said, kissing him quickly on the lips.  
  
Mark grinned, in spite of himself. "See you later."  
  
Roger glared at Pepper, who was still hiding at the other side of the room.  
  
"Bet you think you're real cute," he growled.  
  
"Christ, Roger, it was an accident. Dogs have accidents all the time."  
  
"Yeah, well it just had to happen on MY suit," Roger said, through gritted teeth. "That dog is out to get me. I'll bet you that when we're gone it'll tear up the fucking apartment."  
  
"Rog, calm down," Mimi said, scooping up Pepper in her arms. "I'll use the baby-gate Mitch and Karen gave us to keep her in the kitchen, okay? Will that make you feel better?"  
  
"I guess so," he grumbled.  
  
Mimi nodded. "Okay. Come with me, sweetie, you're going to stay in the kitchen for a little while," she cooed to the dog as she took her into the kitchen.  
  
Roger shook his head. "I don't know how you get attached to those things."  
  
"You used to have a dog, remember?" Mark asked. "Muffy?"  
  
"Yeah," Roger said, a small smile coming over his face. "I hated that name. Rachel was the one who named him."  
  
"Remember when he took a dump right in your mom's Zinnias?"  
  
"Do I," he laughed. "He's lucky that my mom didn't strangle him after that."  
  
"So have you seen the outfits that Karmine picked out for the girls to wear?" Mark asked him.  
  
Roger shook his head. "No. Mimi was too embarrassed to show me. She said it was all frills and bows."  
  
Mark laughed. "Well, that's Karmine for you. I saw Jan and Maureen after they'd tried them on. It's not THAT bad."  
  
"Is Joanne going to the wedding?"  
  
Mark shook his head. "She had to fly to Chicago at the last minute for another one of her mother's hearings."  
  
"Not again," Roger exclaimed. "Is Maureen real pissed about it?"  
  
Mark shrugged. "She was pretty disappointed about it. But what can you do?"  
  
Roger shrugged. "Guess you're right. So Joanne, Collins AND Frankie aren't going to be there?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"That's too bad," Roger said, sighing.  
  
"I'm back," Jan said, as she entered the room. "I gave the suit to Maureen and she's on her way to the dry cleaner's right now. You should have it back in about an hour."  
  
"Thanks, Jan," Roger said, "You're a lifesaver."  
  
"No problem," Jan smiled, clinging to Mark's arm.  
  
"You ready for the wedding?" Mark asked her.  
  
Jan nodded. "I've never been to one before."  
  
"Really?" Mark said.  
  
Jan nodded again. "Have you?"  
  
"Twice. One was when my mom remarried, and the other one was my sister Cindy's."  
  
"And the one you had with Casey Krawford in he second grade," Roger said, laughing.  
  
Mark blushed. "Roger, that was SECOND GRADE."  
  
"Don't worry, Mark, I'm not jealous," Jan joked, kissing him on the cheek.  
  
"Well, okay," he laughed, kissing her back. "We'd better get ready for the wedding."  
  
"Okay. I've got my dress back at my place, so I'll meet you downstairs at five?"  
  
"Alright. Bye," Mark said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek.  
  
"Bye, Mark. Bye, Roger."  
  
"Bye," Roger said, as she left.  
  
"You ready to get all spiffed up, pretty boy?" Mark asked Roger, before sauntering out of the room.  
  
"Who're you calling 'Pretty boy?'" Roger demanded, as he followed him out of the bedroom.  
  
***  
  
"Are you guys ready yet?" Roger yelled, from the living room. He turned to face the mirror in the front hallway, and ran his fingers through his bleached, gelled hair one more time.  
  
"You look better in a tux than I thought you would, Davis," Mark joked as he walked in, fixing his tie.  
  
"You don't look too bad yourself, Cohen," Roger commented, helping him with his tie.  
  
"I thought I'm supposed to be the one helping Mark with his tie," Jan laughed, all decked out in the frilly dress that Karmine had chosen for them to wear.  
  
"Only I have the honor of helping Marky dress," Roger teased. He turned to face the bedroom. "Meems, are you ready yet? We need to leave now!"  
  
"I'm coming!" Mimi yelled from the bedroom. "You better not laugh."  
  
They heard her footsteps as she approached them.  
  
"Stop smiling," she snapped at Mark.  
  
"Sorry, Meems, it's just . . . I've never seen you so, you know . . ."  
  
"Girly?" she guessed.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I think you look hot," Roger grinned, pulling her towards him.  
  
"You would," Mimi laughed.  
  
"You guys all ready to leave?" Jan asked them.  
  
Mark grabbed his video camera from the hallway table. "Yup."  
  
"Let's go," Roger declared, and the four of them went downstairs to meet Maureen, who was waiting for them by the car.  
  
***  
  
"You nervous?" Roger asked Chad, moments before he went out to stand at the altar to wait for Karmine.  
  
"Uh, no . . .yes," he admitted.  
  
"Don't be. You two make a great couple."  
  
"Thanks, Rog," Chad said. "I didn't mean to be such a dick at the rehearsal dinner."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Roger said. "Just go out there and make Karmine a happy bride."  
  
Chad grinned. "You sound like a football coach."  
  
"Hey, why not? One, two, three, HUT!"  
  
Chad laughed, as the organ music began. "Hey, we've gotta go out there now."  
  
"Alright. After you."  
  
"Oh, shit. I hope I don't start crying," Maureen declared, as Karmine began to walk down the aisle.  
  
"SHH!" an old relative hissed from behind them.  
  
"YOU SHH!" Maureen snapped.  
  
"Maureen, quiet!" Mimi whispered, as she watched Roger and Chad at the altar.  
  
"Karmine looks beautiful," Jan said to Mark, as she passed them.  
  
"She does," he agreed.  
  
"Maybe some day that can be the two of us," she winked.  
  
Mark chuckled nervously, not sure whether she was joking or not.  
  
Finally, Karmine approached the altar, and she and Chad turned to face the priest.  
  
He cleared his throat and began.  
  
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony which is an honorable estate. If anyone should show just cause, why they may not be virtually joined in virtual matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace . . ."  
  
Mimi's mind wandered as the priest's calm tone droned on. Could that really someday by her and Roger? She wondered. Once the babies were born, he'd said. God, she couldn't imagine herself as a bride. It wouldn't be a large ceremony, just a few small close friends and family. And she could wear her mother's old wedding dress from when she'd married Mimi's real father . . .  
  
"You may now kiss the bride," the priest declared.  
  
Mimi looked up. Roger had given Chad and Karmine the rings, and now Chad was pulling Karmine's veil away from her face, and was kissing her.  
  
Mimi heard Maureen sniveling next to her.  
  
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said, and the guests began to applaud, politely.  
  
Roger turned to look back at Mimi, and smiled when she caught his eye.  
  
"God I am SO fucking tired," Mark declared as he, Jan, Roger and Mimi entered the Loft again.  
  
"Did you get it all on tape?" Roger asked him.  
  
Mark nodded, holding up his camera. "Yup."  
  
"What time is it?" Jan asked, aloud.  
  
Mark checked his watch. "It's almost two."  
  
"Christ," Mimi murmured, leaning against Roger.  
  
Roger turned to her and kissed her forehead, nuzzling his nose into her curly hair.  
  
"You ready to hit the sack?" he asked.  
  
"And get out of this dress? YES," she said, making Roger laugh.  
  
"Well. We're going to go to bed as well," Mark said, taking Jan's hand. "See you two lovebirds in the morning," he said, winking, as he and Jan disappeared into Mark's bedroom.  
  
"It's weird," Mimi said, as Roger yawned. "I feel like it's OUR wedding night."  
  
"Does that mean we get to have a honeymoon?" Roger asked, eagerly.  
  
Mimi laughed. "No, but you can carry me to bed all the same."  
  
"No problem," Roger said, carrying Mimi into their bedroom, frilly bows and all.  
  
a/n: I realized after I posted this that I had Jan in the chapter.and if you've followed carefully you'll know that Jan was supposed to be at an aunt's funeral. So I quickly threw that thing in about Jan not having to leave until March. *Is a jackass* Review! 


	32. HandMeDown

"Are you thinking of getting breast implants or something?" Mimi yawned, when she woke up to find Roger gazing at his bare chest in the mirror.  
  
"NO, I'm no thinking of getting implants," Roger shot back. "I was thinking of getting another tattoo."  
  
"Another one?" Mimi asked, stretching.  
  
"Yeah. Right here," Roger said, pointing to the middle of his chest.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "If you want it, get it."  
  
"Maybe I should get a tattoo of your name?"  
  
Mimi made a face. "That'd be kind of weird."  
  
"Why? You don't think it'll look sexy?" he teased.  
  
Mimi grinned. "I'd rather not have my name drawn onto you permanently, Roger."  
  
"If it was the other way around, would you get a tattoo of my name?"  
  
"Who's getting a tattoo of who's name?" Mark asked, walking into the room in his gray furry slippers.  
  
"Jeez, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Roger exclaimed.  
  
"Sorry. Who's getting who's name tattooed on them?"  
  
"I'm getting your name tattooed on my ass."  
  
"That's very considerate of you, Roger," Mark rolled his eyes. "I've always been very fond of you."  
  
"Yeah, well," Roger said with mock casualty as he slid on the monogrammed robe that he'd gotten from his mother for Christmas.  
  
"Did Jan leave?" Mimi asked, propping herself up on a pillows.  
  
Mark sighed. "Yup. This time she really left for the funeral. It won't be as long as she was supposed to be gone before, though. Only five days."  
  
"Well, that's good," Mimi said.  
  
"Are you going to get up or what?" Roger said to Mimi.  
  
Mimi stuck out her tongue. "Make me."  
  
"Okay," said Roger. He walked over to the bed and grabbed her ankle, trying to tug her off the bed.  
  
"Stop!" Mimi exclaimed, holding onto the bedpost tightly with both hands.  
  
"Nope- If I can get up, you can get up too," Roger declared, finally pulling her away from the bed.  
  
Mimi landed on the floor on her butt. "You'd be tired too if you were up last night barfing up a week's worth of dinner," she grumbled, taking Roger's hand as he pulled her to her feet.  
  
"I'm sorry, babe," he apologized.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "It's not your fault. Well actually, it is."  
  
Roger grinned, sheepishly. "Sorry."  
  
"What's different about today?" Mark wondered aloud.  
  
Roger paused. "Pepper's not here? Collins and Frankie finally took that cretin back downstairs."  
  
Mark shook his head. "No. It feels like something's missing. Like I'm missing something."  
  
"Jan?" Mimi guessed.  
  
Mark groaned. "You're right. That's it."  
  
"Sorry, Marky," she said, sympathetically.  
  
"I'll be fine," he sighed, gloomily.  
  
"Well, you know what can cheer you up? Watching me getting tattooed!" Roger said, with forced enthusiasm.  
  
"You really want to get another tattoo?" Mimi asked, surprised.  
  
Roger nodded. "Yup."  
  
"Today?"  
  
"Sure, why not?" Mimi shrugged.  
  
"You want to come, Mark?"  
  
Mark wrinkled his nose. "I'd love to watch you get ink injected into your body. Really, I would. But I'm going out to brunch with Maureen in a little while."  
  
"Your loss," Roger said, waving his hand at him. "Now shoo. I need to get dressed."  
  
"Anything specific you're thinking of?" the woman asked Roger once he'd sat down in the reclined chair and removed his shirt.  
  
Mimi sat beside him on a leather stool, fidgeting nervously.  
  
"I just wanted to get a name inside a heart. Right here," Roger said, pointing with his thumb.  
  
"What name?"  
  
"Mimi," Roger said, smiling at Mimi.  
  
Mimi blushed.  
  
"How do you spell that?"  
  
Roger told her.  
  
"Alright. I've got to get the stencil for the letters," the woman said, getting up to leave. "Be back in a sec."  
  
"Alright," Roger said. "Meems, you should get a tattoo," he teased, once she'd left.  
  
"Me? Get a tattoo? Are you kidding? I don't want ink being injected into my skin. I don't know about you."  
  
"Get something pierced then."  
  
"Something?" Mimi said, in a suggesting tone.  
  
"Your nose. Or tongue."  
  
"That's disgusting," Mimi said, making a face.  
  
"Get your belly button pierced, then."  
  
Mimi snorted. "Yeah, a pregnant woman with a belly button ring. That'd be real sexy."  
  
"It would," he insisted.  
  
"Roger, I have enough to think about right now," Mimi said, laughing.  
  
"I think it'd look hot. Especially when you start to get so big that you have an outie and it starts to stick out and-"  
  
"Roger- I am NOT piercing my belly button, or any other part of my body," Mimi declared, wrapping her arms around her stomach protectively.  
  
Roger laughed. "Calm down, Meems, I was kidding."  
  
"You two ready?" the lady asked, returning to the room.  
  
Roger nodded.  
  
"Okay, here we go," she said, rubbing alcohol on the spot that would be tattooed.  
  
She took out the stencil and the needle and began to tattoo the first letter.  
  
About five minutes into the process, Mimi rose up from the stool and quickly walked out of the room.  
  
The lady looked at Roger, confused. "Keep going. She's fine. She's just squeamish," Roger said, softly.  
  
She shrugged and continued on.  
  
"Will that be cash or credit card?" the lady at the desk asked Roger.  
  
"Cash," he muttered, handing her the crumpled bills. He rushed over to the small, stuffy waiting room, where Mimi was.  
  
"Meems, what happened?" he asked, kneeling down beside her.  
  
"I just couldn't sit in there while she was doing it," Mimi said, softly.  
  
"You didn't have to come with me if you didn't want to, babe," he said softly, running his fingers through her hair.  
  
Mimi shrugged. "I've felt weird around needles ever since . . . well, you know . . ."  
  
Roger knew.  
  
Mimi sighed. "Also, it reminded me of one of a boy I used to know."  
  
Roger gave her a confused look.  
  
"The one that I got AIDS from," Mimi said, quietly.  
  
"Mimi," Roger whispered, starting to rub her shoulder but Mimi pulled away.  
  
"I had a boyfriend at the time. He'd still follow me around during school, and later during the night. One night I was walking back from a party, and I guess I was pretty stoned."  
  
"What happened?" Roger asked, quietly.  
  
"I didn't want to. He did it anyway," Mimi said, not looking at him.  
  
"You mean he . . . raped you?" Roger said, softly.  
  
"If that's what you'd call it," Mimi mumbled.  
  
"Mimi! That's serious! Why didn't you tell you parents?"  
  
Mimi scoffed. "Joel wouldn't have believed me. Even if he did, he would have said that I'd been asking for it all along. He'd only convince my mother to believe the same thing."  
  
"Where does this guy live? I'll kill him, Mimi, I swear to God . . ."  
  
"The last I heard of him, he'd been killed in a car accident. He was drinking," she added.  
  
Roger shook his head. "Jesus fucking Christ."  
  
"I just remember . . . when he . . . did it . . .I was pretty messed up, but I just remember he had a tattoo of a girl's name on his chest."  
  
"What was the name?" Roger asked, softly.  
  
All of a sudden, Mimi looked frightened. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, rising to her feet, suddenly. "I want to go home."  
  
"Alright," Roger said quietly, wrapping his arm around her.  
  
He stroked her cheek as the two of them walked home, but Mimi seemed to occupied in her own thoughts to notice.  
  
"So . . . how was the hearing?" Maureen bombarded Joanne as soon as she walked in the door.  
  
"Oh, God. You would not BELIEVE," Joanne exclaimed, setting down her suitcase,  
  
"Boring?" Maureen guessed.  
  
"No. It was actually very interesting. Not at all like the other one's I've been to. You know, I have a degree that I never used. Maybe I should try to become a real court case lawyer," Joanne said, thoughtfully.  
  
"You?" Maureen said, surprised.  
  
"Why? You don't think I could do it?" Joanne demanded.  
  
"No, it's not that . . . I just couldn't imagine you as a big court case lawyer. You're just . . . Joanne."  
  
"Well, that doesn't say much," Joanne said, rolling her eyes.  
  
"I didn't mean it in a bad way!" Maureen persisted.  
  
Joanne shrugged. "Whatever." She poured herself a glass of ice water from the sink. "How was the wedding?"  
  
"Oh, it was beautiful," Maureen gushed. "Karmine was beautiful. You should have seen me, though. I'm lucky I didn't drown all the guests with my crying."  
  
"You ALWAYS cry," Joanne commented, taking a sip of water.  
  
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"  
  
"Nothing. You're just very overly dramatic."  
  
"Overly dramatic?" Maureen exclaimed. "You mean as in a drama queen?"  
  
Joanne frowned. "It's not a bad thing, Maureen. You have to admit, though. You are sort of a drama queen."  
  
"I am NOT a drama queen!" Maureen declared.  
  
"Mo, calm down!" Joanne exclaimed. "I was just kidding."  
  
"You always make fun of every little thing I do," Maureen huffed.  
  
"Yeah, well what about you? Laughing it up when I suggested that I wanted to be a more serious lawyer."  
  
"I don't see why we're together if we can't even have a civil conversation with each other," Maureen shot back.  
  
An angry look came over Joanne's face. "Fine. I'll go then." She went into the hallway to retrieve the still-packed suitcase.  
  
"Pookie, wait- I just overreacted," Maureen pleaded, following Joanne to the door.  
  
Joanne sighed. "You're always 'overreacting'." Mo, I think we both need some time on our own right now. I can stay with my mother in New Jersey. I just think we should spend some time apart."  
  
"Fine. Go home to your mother and become some big lawyer. See if I care," Maureen snapped.  
  
"See? You're overreacting about this too."  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
"Fine! Just go then!"  
  
"I will."  
  
"Good!"  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Fine!"  
  
Joanne closed the door quickly behind her.  
  
Maureen groaned, pushing her curly hair behind her ears and rubbing her temples.  
  
"Fuck," she muttered.  
  
"Are you having fun?"  
  
A smile lit up Mark's face. "Hi Jan."  
  
He was sitting in his bedroom with the cordless phone cradled between his chin and shoulder.  
  
"Just thought I'd call and see how you're doing."  
  
"I'm fine. I miss you though."  
  
"I miss you too, Marky."  
  
Mark smiled. "How the funeral going?" he asked, his tone becoming a bit more serious.  
  
"The funeral's tomorrow. And the waking."  
  
"Oh, um. Sounds fun?" Mark said, awkwardly.  
  
"Yeah, I'd rather pay my respects and not actually see the body," Mark heard Jan sigh. "But what can you do?"  
  
"So you're at your parent's house now?"  
  
"Yup. First I was swarmed with about fifty of my relatives. And A quarter of them I didn't even know."  
  
Mark laughed. "Typical."  
  
"The last funeral I went to was April's."  
  
Mark was silent for a moment.  
  
"Are you there, Mark?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm here. That just sort of caught me off guard."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"You know, Roger never went to April's funeral."  
  
"I thought not. Otherwise I probably would have recognized his face."  
  
"It was too much for him. After she died, he was a wreck. He couldn't pull himself together enough to be able to go out to the funeral."  
  
"I understand."  
  
"You should have seen him. I was afraid to leave the Loft because I was afraid he'd kill himself." Mark paused. "But then he went into withdrawal. And then later he met Mimi." He smiled with the memory of Roger first talking to him about Mimi at St. Mark's place last Christmas eve.  
  
"I'm glad he's found someone else that he's happy with."  
  
"Me too. I mean, know one can ever replace April . . ."  
  
"I know what you mean, Mark. No one CAN ever replace her."  
  
"Yeah," Mark said, sighing, softly.  
  
"Shit. Mark, I've gotta go. Dinner time with the 'rents."  
  
Mark laughed. "The ''Rents?''  
  
"What, am I too old to use that word? I'll talk to you later, Mark. I love you."  
  
"I love you too," Mark said, as he head the phone click.  
  
He stared at it for a few moments before getting up to return it to its cradle.  
  
"Mimi?"  
  
"Mmm?"  
  
"Could you tell me what's bothering you?"  
  
"Nothing's bothering me, baby."  
  
"When I asked you about the name, you got all weird."  
  
They were in Roger's bedroom, preparing to go to bed.  
  
"It's nothing . . .I don't even remember the name."  
  
"Mimi, you know I can tell when you're not telling the truth."  
  
Mimi sighed. "Okay. I WAS pretty drunk that night. But I know for a fact that the name the guy tattooed on his chest was 'April.'"  
  
Roger was silent. "Not the same one?" he whispered.  
  
"I honestly don't know, Roger. She could have been an old ex of his or something."  
  
Roger didn't hear her. All he could think of was the fact that Mimi and April might have both gotten AIDS from the same person.  
  
"That bastard," he growled. "If he wasn't dead already I'd kill him myself."  
  
"Roger, what's done is done," Mimi said, softly. "There's only NOW."  
  
Roger sighed, taking Mimi's hand in his.  
  
"If you want I can try and find out more from Jan about April's old boyfriend."  
  
Roger sighed. "You don't have to."  
  
Mimi gave him a surprised look. "Are you sure?"  
  
Roger nodded. He didn't want the truth to be told to him. Even though that in his heart, he believed that it was true.  
  
"Okay. I'm going to bed now," Mimi said softly.  
  
"Alright," Roger leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Goodnight, baby."  
  
"Goodnight." Mimi turned off the light.  
  
Roger lay awake in his bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling until his eyes began to strain.  
  
Finally, he closed them, and finally drifted off into sleep. 


	33. Getting Prepared

FEBRUARY 28TH  
  
"Um, Mitch, she's sort of chewing on my hand," Roger said, as baby Eva gummed his fingers gently.  
  
"Rog, that's what babies do," Mimi said, looking up from the photo album that Mitch and Karen were showing her. The two of them were visiting them to see Eva.  
  
"Ugh. I'm not going to let MY kids eat me," Roger declared.  
  
"Have fun trying," Karen said, not looking up from the album.  
  
"Okay, kid, chew this," he said, trying to encourage Eva to chew on a teething ring.  
  
"You need some help?" Mimi said, laughing.  
  
Roger shook his head. "Why would I need help? I'm going to be a father. I know what I'm doing."  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Okay."  
  
"This was when we took her to my mom's," Karen said, pointing to a picture in the album. "Don't you love the Christmas outfit she has on?" she gushed.  
  
"It's cute," Mimi smiled.  
  
"Once yours are born there'll have to get together with Eva. She'll only be a few months older than them.  
  
"How old is she now?" Mimi asked.  
  
"Almost three months."  
  
"Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this!" Roger exclaimed, as Eva crawled around his lap, happily.  
  
"Good luck with two," Mitch said.  
  
"Shut up," Roger grumbled.  
  
"So you're due in August?"  
  
Mimi nodded. "Around that time."  
  
"You nervous?"  
  
Mimi shrugged. "Sort of."  
  
"Don't worry. They'll give you an epidural and then it's all uphill from there," Mitch laughed.  
  
Karen nudged his foot, playfully.  
  
"It's not the actual birth I'm nervous about," Mimi said. "Just being a mom in general."  
  
"I know how you feel. It still hasn't really hit me," Karen laughed.  
  
"It's hit me!" Roger chimed in.  
  
Mimi rolled her eyes and smiled as she watched Eva climb across Roger's back.  
  
"You're free to babysit her whenever you want," Mitch offered, half joking.  
  
"Thanks, but when our babies are born we're bound to have our hands full," Mimi sighed.  
  
"True, it's not all fun and games. But just having one of your own . . . it's something indescribable," said Karen, watching Eva.  
  
"Well, only approximately seven more months to go," Roger said, cheerfully from the floor.  
  
"It feels more like seven years," Mimi said.  
  
"The time comes quicker than you think," Karen said. "Lord knows I sure wasn't expecting it when the time came," she laughed.  
  
Mitch rolled his eyes. "Let's not get into that."  
  
"We were at Mitch's parents, and I was sitting on the couch when my water broke."  
  
"Karen, I don't think Roger and Mimi need to hear about this."  
  
" . . . So since we're at their house Mitch's mom figures that we'll have one of those home-births. So while I'm on the couch, thinking that she's left to phone the hospital, she was really getting out some towels and pans . . . she even went further than that and grabbed a pair of tongs."  
  
"Ewwwww," Roger said, and Mimi tossed one of the couch pillows at his head, careful not to hit Eva.  
  
"And Mitch was getting my hospital bag ready, and then his mom comes in with this huge pan and some floor towels."  
  
"She's crazy," Mitch added.  
  
"Sounds like a fun time," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Yeah, well by the time she figured that our kid wasn't going to be born under her kitchen table, we'd already gotten into the car, so she just hopped in the backseat with Karen, who was in labor, and then we drove to the hospital."  
  
"Your mommy and daddy had quite a time getting you out of there," Roger cooed, tickling Eva under her chin.  
  
Mimi shook her head. "I think this dad stuff has gone to his head. He already bought one of those fisher price music sets. Just because it came with this little plastic guitar."  
  
"You can really play it!" Roger protested.  
  
"Roger, it only has one string."  
  
"You can still play it," he said, stubbornly.  
  
"You should play it at your next gig," Mimi laughed.  
  
"I SHOULD."  
  
"When is the next one?" Mitch asked Roger.  
  
"I'm not sure. Not for a while, I don't think. Chad's probably going to be pretty busy for a while with Karmine. And I'm busy with the babies . . . well, fetuses, whatever you'd call them."  
  
"Babies is fine," Mimi laughed.  
  
"Yeah, so anyway, we might just take time off for a little while. At least until the babies are born."  
  
Suddenly, Karen made a face. "Mitch, do you smell that?"  
  
"Yep. I'll be back guys, I've gotta change her," Karen said, causing Roger to immediately remove Eva from his lap.  
  
"Roger, if you can't handle a diaper-change you're gonna have a problem," Mimi teased.  
  
"Um, how about this . . . I'll feed them, you change their diapers."  
  
"Like hell," Mimi said, moving to sit on his lap.  
  
"You want to teeth on my fingers?" he asked her.  
  
Mimi picked up his hand and kissed his palm. "No."  
  
"Oh well."  
  
"So how's Mark?" Mitch asked Roger. "I haven't seen him in a while."  
  
"He's doing fine. Great, actually. Jan came back from her parents' place so now he's back to his new-improved non-angsty self."  
  
"That's good . . . right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Okay, I changed her and put her down for her nap," Karen announced, as she came back into the room.  
  
"Aw," Roger said.  
  
"Don't worry, Rog. Once yours are born you can play with both of them whenever you want," Mitch said, grinning.  
  
"Oh, wait, before I forget," Karen said, jumping up from the couch.  
  
"What?" Roger asked, as Karen pulled out two identical bassinets from behind the couch.  
  
"For us?" Roger asked, puzzled.  
  
"No, for your mother. They're for the babies, Rog," Mitch said from the couch.  
  
"Aw," Roger said, "I see. Thanks, guys."  
  
"Thanks, Karen; that's so sweet of you," Mimi exclaimed, getting up to hug her.  
  
"Hey, now. Don't I get a hug as well?"  
  
Mimi laughed and bent down to kiss him on the cheek.  
  
"Well now I'M jealous," Roger said.  
  
"Christ almighty, EVERYONE wants a piece of me," Mimi joked, kissing Roger on the lips.  
  
"So you think we're ready for kids yet?" Roger asked Karen, perching Mimi on his lap.  
  
"Well I'm sure Mimi'll get plenty of practice anyways with you," Karen teased.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"She means you're a big baby," Mimi said, kissing him on his forehead.  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"Are too."  
  
"You better watch it," Roger warned, jokingly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because if you don't the kids and I'll plan a mutiny."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yes. So you best be watching yourself, Chica."  
  
Mimi laughed.  
  
"I'm serious."  
  
***  
  
"I'm so glad you're back," Mark said, sitting at the table in Jan's apartment. "I was just about to go completely insane while you were gone."  
  
"I'm sorry, Mark," Jan said, sympathetically. "I missed you a lot too."  
  
"In fact, I wrote a song about it."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"No."  
  
Jan grinned.  
  
"How was the funeral?"  
  
Jan sighed. "It was alright. My parents made me speak in front of everyone. Which was weird because I've always made it pretty obvious that I didn't like her. I wrote a five minute speech on an index card the day before and when I read it in front of everyone, the sadness of everything just got to me and I actually cried through the rest of it."  
  
Mark sighed. "I know what you mean. I'm always uncomfortable at funerals."  
  
"Well I mean it's not like it's everyone's cup of tea anyways."  
  
Mark shrugged.  
  
"Well, enough about my boring, depressing family," Jan laughed. "What've you been up to?"  
  
"Honestly, nothing really. I worked on your 'Welcome Home!' banner. I must have used up at least two boxes of magic markers."  
  
"I must have missed that when I got home," Jan said, winking.  
  
"I'm really glad you're back though," Mark said, pushing his nose against her shoulder.  
  
"So am I," Jan smiled. "Anything interesting happen here?"  
  
Mark shook his head. "Pepper took a few more dumps, Mimi threw up a couple of times. Nothing out of the ordinary."  
  
"You're terrible," Jan laughed.  
  
"It's part of my charm."  
  
Jan smiled, rolling her eyes.  
  
"So we're all heading to my place tonight."  
  
"What's the occasion?"  
  
"Us. Us all being together again I mean. Frankie's going to pick up a movie on the way there. Knowing her it'll be some clichéd romantic chick flick."  
  
"I like clichéd romantic chick flicks," Jan grinned.  
  
"Yeah, they're okay," Mark said, trying not to smile. "I myself am a fan of 'The Godfather,'" he joked.  
  
"You have not seen that movie."  
  
"Have too. They put a dead horse in my bed," he rasped.  
  
"A dead horse HEAD," she corrected him.  
  
Mark shrugged. "Same thing."  
  
***  
  
"So, what movie did you get?" Mark asked as Collins, Frankie and Maureen entered the Loft.  
  
"Sleepless in Seattle," Collins and Frankie said at the same time.  
  
"No Godfather?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Never mind."  
  
"Mark, is the popcorn ready yet?" Roger yelled from the living room.  
  
Mark stuck his head into the kitchen. "Yeah, it's ready. Jan, can you hand me a bowl from on top of the fridge?"  
  
"You'd better get an extra bag for Mimi," Roger added.  
  
Mark cringed at the sound of Mimi whacking Roger's head.  
  
"Do we have any butter?" he asked, rummaging through the refrigerator.  
  
"I don't know, check," Roger yelled back, as Collins, Frankie and Maureen settled into the living room.  
  
"Er, we have organic butter," Mark said, as he picked the small yellow slab off the shelf.  
  
"It's probably the same as the regular kind," Jan shrugged, pouring the popcorn into the bowl.  
  
"Oh well. I'll melt it in the microwave and pour it on it or something."  
  
"Um, okay," Jan said, making a weird face.  
  
"Hey, don't start it without us!" Mark yelled to the others as he heard the sound of the TV being turned on.  
  
"It's just coming attractions, Mark!" Mimi yelled back.  
  
"I like coming attractions!"  
  
"Here," Jan said, handing the popcorn bowl to him.  
  
"Okay. Here we go," Mark sang, placing the popcorn bowl onto the couch arm.  
  
Roger took a handful and stuffed it into his mouth. "Eww. Mark, what did you put on this? It tastes like ass."  
  
"Um, organic butter?"  
  
"Mark, do you know how old that is?!" Roger exclaimed.  
  
Mark blinked.  
  
"It's called reading the expiration date."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Well, the next bag's all mine," Mimi declared, jumping up from the couch and scrambling into the kitchen.  
  
"Hey, Maureen, where's Joanne?" Jan asked Maureen.  
  
"Who cares," Maureen mumbled, staring at the screen.  
  
"They had a fight," Mark whispered to her.  
  
Jan nodded her head, showing she understood.  
  
"C'mon, guys, I want to watch this," Collins complained.  
  
"Alright, alright, settle down," Mark said, plopping onto the couch.  
  
***  
  
An hour later, both popcorn bowls were empty, and the movie was almost over.  
  
Roger sat on the floor, with Mimi in his lap, trying to comfort her as she finished off a tissue box. The others were on the couch, and Mark, not being a fan of 'Clichéd romantic chick flicks,' sat in an armchair, trying not to fall asleep.  
  
"I don't know why this movie still makes me so teary," Frankie sniffed, from besides Collins. "I must have seen it at least twenty times already."  
  
"Shhh!" said Mimi.  
  
"I'm going to rinse out the popcorn bowls," Jan said, jumping up from the couch.  
  
"I'll help you," Roger offered.  
  
"Jan, can I ask you something?" Roger asked, once they'd entered the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah?" Jan asked, placing the bowls in the sink.  
  
"I know I was April's last boyfriend . . . but did she have any others besides me?"  
  
"No . . . not that I know of. Why?"  
  
"No reason," he sighed.  
  
Jan gave him a weird look. "Okay. I'm going back in. Hopefully by now the movie'll be over."  
  
"Yeah," he Roger sighed, as she left.  
  
Did that mean the tattoo was referring to a different April?  
  
"Roger, you coming back in?" Mimi's voice interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Coming."  
  
"Bring a couple more tissues with you?"  
  
"Okay," he called back, sighing.  
  
Maybe he'd never know.  
  
a/n: *Insert dot dot dot there* lol. Review! 


	34. Party Favors

MARCH 7TH

"Is anyone home?" Roger asked, as he walked into the Loft. 

"Meems? Mark? Jan?" he called, as he stepped blindly through the apartment, searching with his hand for the light switch.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" several voices chorused.

Roger grabbed onto the arm of the couch in panic.

"Hey, baby," Mimi laughed, walking up to him and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Happy birthday."

"You remembered."

Mimi gave him a weird look. "Of course I remembered."

"Happy birthday, Roger!" Mark declared, fitting a dinky party hat on Roger's head. "How does it feel to be old?"

"Twenty-five is hardly old, Mark," Frankie laughed from beside Collins.

"It is when you're going to be a father," Mark replied.

"Thanks guys," Roger grinned, ignoring Mark's comment.

"Oh, hold on, wait a sec!" Mark disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a lopsided cake balanced on a dish. "Maureen made this for you."

"Look, um, appetizing," Roger laughed, taking a closer look. The words, 'Happy Birthday, Roger!' were iced onto it in loopy pink letters. "What are those white things?"

"Um, marshmallows, I think," Mark said, suppressing a grimace.

Roger laughed. "This is great. Thanks, Mo," he said, turning. He frowned when he couldn't find her. "Where's Maureen?"

"She says she's feeling under the weather today, so she's resting at home. She baked the cake for you as an apology for not being here, and also as a birthday present." Mark paused. "I just think she really misses Joanne."

"It's such a pity they broke up," Jan said, frowning.

"According to Maureen they didn't break up . . . they're just taking quote on quote, 'Time off.'"

"Still, it's sad that they're not together right now."

Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Well," said Collins, breaking the ice. "The cake was Maureen's gift to you. Wanna see what the rest of us got for you?"

"Oh, um, sure," Roger laughed.

"This is from Frankie and I," Collins said, handing him a brown package.

"You don't need to go so slowly," Mimi laughed, watching Roger carefully remove the paper and tape.

"Alrighty, then," Roger said, ripping off the wrapping paper to reveal a flat white box. "Oh, guys," he laughed, as he uncovered the box. 

"What is it?" Jan asked, looking over Mark's shoulder.

Roger lifted two pairs of baby booties out of the tissue paper. "Thanks, guys."

"Thank you," Mimi echoed, smiling brightly at Collins and Frankie.

"My turn," Mark declared, "It's from Jan and me." He handed Roger a plastic bag with the words, 'Customized T-shirts' on it.

"Oh, God, I don't want to know what it says on the shirt," Roger laughed, as he unfolded the shirt. It was black, with small white lettering on the front.

"I'm with the band," Roger read. "Well, not so bad."

"Look on the back," Jan piped up.

Roger turned the shirt over. In large letters it said '(So are my kids.)'

"You guys," Roger groaned, laughing.

"Jeez, is it your birthday or the babies'?'" Mimi laughed, plopping onto Roger's lap. "Here. It's not baby-related . . .but it could be after a while." She reached for an object in back of her. "I'm not good at wrapping or anything, so I just decided to give it to you the way it is," she said, placing a red felt-covered binder into his hands.

"Open it," she said, encouragingly.

Roger did.

"Aw, Meems," he exclaimed. Inside were numerous photographs of the two of them together.

"It's not just the two of us- if you go on farther, there's pictures with everyone else too," Mimi pointed out.

Roger turned to see pictures of him, Mimi, Mark, Maureen, Joanne, Collins and Angel at Christmas, New Years, Roger's gigs, and then random pictures taken around the apartment or in Central Park.

"This is great, Meems," Roger grinned, setting the book aside so he could pull her towards him, kissing her on the lips.

"Thanks," Mimi giggled, "I thought you'd like it."

"I'd like anything you gave me."

"Is that so?"

"Before you guys get any ideas," Collins cut in, seeing the lustful looks in both Roger and Mimi's eyes, "We're taking you out to dinner for your birthday. My treat."

"Collins, you do too much for us," Mimi exclaimed, standing up to lean against the arm of the couch..

"It's no trouble at all. Besides, Roger deserves it. It IS his birthday, after all."

"So, where are we going?" Mark asked, replacing Mimi's spot on Roger's lap. 

"Oof! Mark, get off," Roger groaned.

"Have you guys ever been to Jo's Pub?"

"No."

"It shouldn't be that far a walk . . . do you all mind?"

"No," Mark and Roger both said together. Mimi and Jan shook their heads.

"We'd better leave now," Frankie said, glancing at her watch. "Our reservations are for eight oh clock. It's almost seven thirty."

"Reservations? You DO do too much," Roger laughed.

"Think nothing of it. Grab your coats, and let's go."

***

"Bubbly, anyone?" Mark asked, once they had all been seating.

"What?" Roger asked, confused.

Mark retrieved a bottle of wine from a paper bag and dangled it by the neck in front of Roger.

"You with a bottle of wine, of all people," Roger laughed. "Where'd you get that?"

"Jan and ran into a store really quickly on the way here," Mark said, grinning sheepishly.

"Well, then, don't taunt us with it, give it here," Collins commanded.

"You and your wine," Frankie said, shaking her head as Mark handed the bottle to Collins.

"Shouldn't Roger have the first sip? It IS his birthday, after all," Jan said, winking at Mark.

"Oh, if you insist, groaned Collins, as Roger retrieved the bottle from him.

"Is it any good?" Mimi asked, snuggling against Roger's shoulder as he took a swig from the bottle.

Roger swallowed and made a face. "It's bitter."

"The bitter the better," Collins said, motioning for Mark to return it to him.

"You're going to be so drunk by the end of tonight," Frankie laughed as she watched him.

"Me? Never. I am you guys' designated driver . . . so to speak."

"That doesn't speak for much," Mark snickered.

"I heard that," Collins said, taking another swallow.

"Let's save it for the rest of us, shall we?" Roger laughed.

"Yeah, the rest of us are waiting," Mimi said.

"You guys are ALL going to be stoned by the end of the night," Jan teased.

"Do you guys know what you want?" asked a waitress as she approached their table.

"Ummm . . . you guys know what you want?"

"I'll have a small platter of Sashimi," said Jan, glancing at the names of the Sushi on the menu.

"I'll have a Caesar Salad," Frankie added.

"Anything else?" the waitress asked, when the others didn't say anything.

"You guys hungry?" Roger asked the others.

They all shook their heads.

"I ate my way through the refrigerator today," Mimi grinned, sheepishly.

"Thanks for sharing," Mark said.

"If you were pregnant, you would too."

"Okay, um, no I guess- just a Heineken, please," Roger said quickly, feeling himself blush.

"Alcoholic," Mimi teased, once the waitress had left.

"Sticks and stones," Roger replied, kissing her neck.

Mimi giggled. "You wanna dance?"

"Dance?"

"Yup. See the people dancing over there? By the band?" Mimi said, pointing.

"Oh."

"You guys want to come?" Mimi asked the others.

"Surely," Collins grinned, standing up to take Frankie's hand.

"You two coming?" Roger asked Mark and Jan.

Jan glanced at Mark. "Um, I'm not really much of a dancer," she said, blushing.

"Neither am I," Mark admitted.

"Do you just want to stay here?"

"Sure."

"Your loss," Roger shrugged, as Mimi tugged impatiently on his sleeve.

"I only danced in public once," Mark said to Jan, watching the others on the dance floor. "My High School dance. The most humiliating thing in the world."

"I know what you mean. I used to take ballet, and we'd have recitals- I HATED it, though. I used to dread going to them. And my mom had signed me and April up for three classes a week."

"That bites," Mark said, making a face.

"Tell me about it. I was finally kicked out because the instructor saw I wasn't trying at all," Jan laughed. "I don't regret it one bit."

"I don't blame you."

"Aw, look how cute they are," Jan exclaimed, referring to Roger and Mimi dancing together. Roger had his hands around Mimi's waist, and Mimi, who stood barely up to his shoulders had her head nuzzled against his arm. Roger was running his hands through her long curly hair.

"Ten bucks they're both drunk by the end of the night," Mark said, watching.

"You're horrible," Jan laughed.

Mark shrugged.

"We miss anything?" Frankie asked, as she and Collins slid back into their seats.

"That was fast," Jan observed.

"Yeah, well. The dance floor was getting a bit too heated for us," Collins said, winking at Frankie.

"Besides, I wanted my salad," Frankie said, grinning.

"And I wanted the wine," Collins joked.

Mark laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Just look at them," Jan commented again, still watching Roger and Mimi.

"You sure are fixated on those two," Mark said.

"They're just so perfect for each other."

"So are you two," Frankie said, taking a bite of her salad.

"Did we miss anything?" Mimi asked, as she and Roger returned to the table.

Mark shook his head. "Nope. We were just watching you two."

"Oh, great," Roger laughed.

"I need a drink. Send that bottle over here," Mimi commanded.

"Are you sure it's okay? I mean since you're pregnant and everything," Mark said.

"I'm pregnant, not crippled," Mimi declared, taking a swallow straight from the bottle.

"Eww. Cooties," Roger said, nuzzling against her shoulder.

"Want some?" she asked, offering it to him.

"No thanks."

"Your loss," she shrugged, taking another sip.

"Is our bet still on for the night?" Jan whispered, jabbing Mark in the side.

Mark laughed.

***

About an hour later, Frankie and Collins had left again to dance, and it was quite obvious that Mimi had had too much to drink.

"Let's dance," she declared, reaching clumsily for Roger's hand.

"Um, okay," Roger said, shooting Mark a 'Help me' look before letting Mimi drag him away.

"So, is this the best birthday ever? I mean I know you've had a lot . . . but is this the best EVER?" Mimi drawled.

Roger saw that she was unusually shaky and wobbly as they danced, slowly.

"You're drunk," he informed her.

"No I'm not," Mimi said. Almost on cue, her knees buckled lazily, and Roger grabbed her arms before she could fall over.

"Oops," she giggled.

"Meems, I think you should go home and lie down."

"Lie down? Look at the party boy! Pooping his own party!" Mimi declared, and then began to giggle as if that were the funniest thing in the world.

"Come on, Meems," Roger said, pulling her along gently.

"No," Mimi mumbled, struggling to break from his grasp. Finally she did, and then soon tripping over her own feet in the process. She landed in an awkward sitting position.

"Fuck," she groaned, s

"Are you alright?" Roger exclaimed, kneeling down beside her.

"I'm fine," she insisted, using his shoulder to push herself up. "Ow," she said, when she set her left foot down.

"Is everything alright?" Collins asked, as he and Frankie rushed over. "We saw Mimi fall."

"My foot hurts," Mimi grumbled, seeming to be slightly sobered up.

Collins knelt down beside her to feel her foot, gently.

"It may be twisted. Or sprained," he said, as suddenly jerked her foot away in pain.

"Shit," Roger groaned. "Oh well. We were just planning on leaving anyway.

"I'll tell Mark and Jan," Frankie offered.

"Thanks," Roger said, helping Mimi stand to her feet.

"Do you want me to call you two a cab? I don't think she'll be able to walk back home. Especially considering the fact that she's pretty drunk."

"I am not," Mimi argued.

"Yes, I think that would be the best idea. Thanks, Collins."

"No problem," he assured him, getting up to hail a cab.

"Come on, Meems," Roger urged her gently. "We're going home."

"Did I fuck up your birthday?" she groaned.

"No, you didn't. You just had a little fall."

"Little fall . . ." she echoed.

Collins motioned for them to come from the door, and Roger half dragged and half carried Mimi to the waiting cab.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Collins said, as Roger slid in besides Mimi.

"Alright. Thanks, Collins. Tell the others I said goodnight."

"Alright. You take care," Collins said, closing the cab door behind them.

"You owe me five bucks," Mark said to Jan, as they got their coats to leave.

"Why five?"

"Because only one of them got drunk."

"You are such a dick," Jan laughed, punching him on the shoulder, playfully.

***

"Tomorrow morning's gonna be fun. I'll have a hangover on top of morning sickness," Mimi groaned, as she slid into bed, wearing an old T-shirt and a pair of Roger's boxers.

"You'll be fine," Roger assured her, kissing her on the cheek. "Just go to sleep. You'll feel better."

"Alright. I'm sorry I fucked up your birthday.

"Meems, you didn't fuck it up at all. If anything you made it more exciting."

Mimi grinned, weakly. "Happy birthday, Rog."

Roger laughed and kissed her other cheek. "Thanks, Meems."

a/n: Er, yeah . . . ironic thing is that I wrote this chapter through new years, and even though it's not New Year's in the story, Mimi's still drunk. Hehe. Review!


	35. A New Beginning

Mimi woke up the next morning and winced, as her head began to pound. Her chest felt heavy, like she couldn't breath. Then she realized it was because Roger's arm was wrapped around her.

Gently, being careful not to wake him, she slid away from his arm and slid out of bed.

She winced slightly as she put weight on her ankle, and then proceeded to limp into the bathroom to take a shower.

When she came back out, a towel wrapped around her damp curls, Roger was already pulling on a ripped pair of jeans and an old Jimi Hendrix T-shirt.

"Morning," he greeted her.

Mimi grunted in response.

"How're you feeling?"

Mimi shrugged. "Like shit."

"Hangover?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm sorry," he said, with a sympathetic look on his face, as he walked over to her to give her a hug.

"It's not your fault. I should have controlled my alcohol intake," she said, grinning weakly. "I'm sorry I sort of fucked up your birthday."

"You didn't fuck up my birthday," Roger said, firmly. He realized then that she was holding onto his arm so she wouldn't have to put weight on her foot.

"Do you think you should go to the hospital?"

Mimi made a face. "No way. It's just a little sprain. Besides, I don't want to go to the hospital unless I'm having a check-up for the babies, or in labor."

"Alright," Roger shrugged. "Do you want some ice to put on it?"

Mimi nodded as she began to dry her air with the towel.

"Alright. One sec," he said, kissing her on the cheek before making a detour into the kitchen.

"Morning," Mark greeted him from the kitchen table.

Roger jumped. "Jesus Christ, Mark, couldn't you make some noise and warn me you were in here first?"

Mark gave him a strange look. "The last time I checked, I lived here."

"The last time _I_ checked, you were practically making Jan's apartment a second home for yourself," Roger teased.

Mark shrugged. He lifted up his bowl of cornflakes and held it out to Roger. "Cornflakes?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "No thanks," he said, opening the freezer.

"What are you looking for?" Mark asked. 

"Ice. For Mimi's ankle," Roger replied, as he pushed aside a carton of ice cream and a package of frozen pizza's.

"We're out of ice," Mark informed him. "Me and Jan used it up."

"You did? For what?"

"I think a few weeks ago. We made smoothies."

"Smoothies? In the middle of winter?"

Mark shrugged. "It was Jan's idea. Besides, they turned out not that bad. We would have saved you one, but Pheobe, the little girl Jan sometimes baby-sits had to stay over and ate the rest."

"Oh well. I'm going downstairs to see if I can borrow ice from Collins and Frankie."

"Okay. I'll tell Mimi."

"Alright. I'll be back in a few minutes."

***

As Roger approached the door to Collins and Frankie's apartment, he could hear a huge commotion going on inside. 

Roger knocked on the door.

"One sec!" he heard Collins yell.

"Hey, Collins. What's going on?" Roger asked, as he stepped inside the apartment. "You guys are making a lot of noise."

"You could hear us from upstairs?" Collins asked, confused.

"What? Oh, no. I wanted to borrow some ice for Mimi's foot. What're you guys doing in here, anyway?"

Collins grinned. "Well, I got up this morning to hear Pepper making these weird noise, so I got up and walked into the kitchen, and- oh, hell, come in and see!" he said, excitedly, leading Roger into the kitchen.

Frankie was hovering over Pepper's bed, and Roger peered over her shoulder. Nestled against Pepper were two small baby puppies, both of them with their eyes shut and their ears flat against the sides of their heads.

"Holy shit," Roger exclaimed.

"Aren't they adorable?" Frankie asked, beaming.

"They are," Roger admitted.

"We think that one of the times Pepper got loose, she met up with some other dog and she uh, you know, conceived them," Collins told him.

"I just hope she was willing," Frankie said, watching the puppies begin to nurse.

Collins laughed. "Knowing this dog, she was probably willing.

Roger said nothing, as he had flashbacks of Pepper clinging to his leg when he and Mimi babysat her.

"You should have seen the mess in here earlier," Collins said, shaking his head.

Roger made a face. "I can imagine."

"I can't believe I'm a Daddy," Collins grinned at Frankie.

Frankie laughed. "Maybe Collins could give you some pointers, Roger."

"Yeah, like give the babies squeaky chew toys and Frisbees?" Roger guessed.

Collins shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat. So you wanted an icepack?" he asked, grabbing a pack from the freezer.

"Thanks," Roger said, as Collins handed it to him.

"No problem," Collins said.

"I'd better get going upstairs before Mimi sends out a search party for me," Roger laughed.

Collins gave him a sympathetic look. "Does she have a hangover?"

Roger nodded.

"Tell her to take a couple of aspirin," Collins instructed. "Back when I was in college I had a list I had taped to my refrigerator on how to cure a hangover…I should have saved it."

Roger laughed. "Did you need to use it often?"

Collins nodded. "Oh, yes. Like you wouldn't believe."

"I have yet to learn Collins's many secrets," Frankie grinned, still crouching on the kitchen floor.

"Alright. I'm gonna bring this up to Mimi. Uh, congratulations," he said, referring to the puppies.

"Thanks, Rog," Collins said, happily, as he watched the puppies squirming around Pepper.

***

"What took you?" Mimi asked, as Roger came to find her lying down on the couch, her ankle propped up by a pillow.

"Sorry. Pepper had puppies," Roger said, as he wrapped the icepack in a dishtowel and placed it on Mimi's foot.

Mimi rose her eyebrows. "She did?"

"Yup. Two of them."

Mimi laughed, wearily. "Sounds like me."

"Except you're not having our kids on the kitchen floor," Roger warned, sitting on the couch beside her.

Mimi smiled. "Hey, you never know."

"And take these," Roger said, handing her three aspirin, ad a glass of water."

Mimi swallowed the pills. "Thanks," she said.

"How're you feeling?"

"Well it seems this morning that instead of having morning sickness, I get to have my head hurt like a bitch instead."

"I don't want you to drink anything more until the babies are born."

"Roger, I just had a little too much to drink!" Mimi protested.

"A _little_? You could barely stand up by yourself, and you did in fact fall over and hurt yourself. I don't want that to happen again. You're lucky you had such a small fall. What if you tripped down the stairs or something? What if something happened to the babies?"

"Roger, you're completely overreacting!" Mimi exclaimed.

Roger sighed. "I'm sorry. I just don't want anything to happen to you. Or to the babies."

Mimi reached for his hand and pulled it toward her and kissed the back of it. "Nothing will happen, Rog. I'm fine. The babies are fine."

"Not completely," Roger mumbled.

"What?"

"Mimi, hasn't the fact that the babies might be positive been bothering you?"

Mimi frowned. "Yes…but Rog, there's a good chance they might not be."

"But there's an equivalent chance that they _are, also," Roger said, running his hand through his spiked hair, frustrated. "If they were, I'd feel terrible. Knowing that I'd be responsible for it, especially."_

"It wouldn't be entirely your fault," Mimi said, softly. "I have it too, remember?"

Roger was silent for a moment. "I just don't know how I'd live with the guilt."

Mimi said nothing.

Roger sighed. "I think I'm going to go take a walk. Maybe go up to the roof and play my fender."

"Okay," Mimi said, quietly.

Roger got up to leave.

"Rog?"

He turned around. "Yeah, Meems?"

"I love you," she said, weakly.

Roger walked back over to the couch to kiss her on the forehead. "I love you too. I'll be back in an hour or two. Okay?"

"Okay."

***

At two pm, Maureen was still asleep. She didn't feel that she had a reason to get up. Until she heard someone knocking at the door.

"Shit," she grumbled, grabbing her robe from the floor of her bedroom. "Coming!" she called, rushing to the door.

She quickly opened it. She felt her heart burst. 

"Joanne," she said quietly, trying not to make the fact that she was overjoyed too blatant.

"Hi, Mo," Joanne said, with a small smile on her face.

"Come in," Maureen said, stepping back from the doorway. "Do you need any help with your bags?"

"No thanks, I've got 'em," Joanne said, lugging them inside.

"I didn't think you'd be coming back here," Maureen said.

Joanne shrugged. "Well, I rented a place in Chelsea. I couldn't find a job…and I felt like something was missing."

"The fact that you couldn't find a job?"

"No, Mo, I missed _you._"

Maureen smiled. "I missed you too."

"I know we fight a lot," Joanne said, slowly. "But I feel like every time we make up, it makes the two of us stronger."

"I agree," Maureen said, softly.

"So…do you want to give us another chance?"

"Yes!... I mean, if you want to."

"I do," Joanne said, smiling.

Maureen grinned. "I missed you, Pookie."

Joanne laughed.

Maureen beamed. Finally, things were back to normal.

***

Roger rested his guitar on his knees, as he lit a cigarette, something he rarely did, unless he was extremely frustrated.

He held it loosely between his thumb and forefinger, and in the other he strummed some random chords on his fender, looking out at the horizon in front of him.

It was starting to get dark. He'd been up here longer than he'd said he would be.

Roger sighed, and stuck his pick into his back pocket, and rested his chin against the neck of the guitar.

He closed his eyes.

"Roger?"

Roger opened his eyes. Mimi was standing in front of him, wearing a large sweatshirt and an old gray pair of sweatpants. She'd let her now-dry hair down, and it hung down past her shoulders in a tangled mass. 

"Hey," Roger said softly, smiling.

Mimi smiled and knelt down beside him, wrapping her arms around herself. She shivered, lightly. "It's getting dark."

"I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you I'd be up here longer."

"It's okay."

They were both silent for a moment. The only sound was the muffled sound of cars below them, and Mimi's teeth chattering together.

"You cold?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"A little," she said. "Thanks."

"Is your head feeling any better?"

"Sort of. I took a few more aspirin. So I'm all drugged up now," she said, and then laughed weakly at the irony of her statement.

Roger smiled and pulled her closer towards him, and the two of them stared out at the horizon, which was starting to resemble an orangey-purple bruise.

"It's beautiful," Mimi said, softly, leaning against Roger's shoulder.

"It is," Roger breathed, nuzzling his nose against his curly hair. Suddenly, he felt her body start to shake. He thought at first it was because she was cold, but then he realized she was crying.

"What's the matter?" he asked, alarmed.

"I was thinking about what you said earlier," Mimi whispered, blinking rapidly as tears escaped her eyes. "About how our kids might have HIV. I can live knowing that I have it, and that I'm at risk. But I don't know how I'd be able to live knowing I gave it to my children," she sobbed. "I don't think I would be able to live with myself, knowing that because of my stupid fucked up mistakes, my kids would have to suffer." She sniffled and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Roger said, softly.

"It's not your fault. It'd been on my mind too," she whispered. "Roger, I don't want to die. I want to be there for my kids as they go through school, I want to be there when they get married. When they have kids of their own. And I don't want you to die." She was sobbing now. "I don't want to be left alone. But I don't want to leave you alone either. You, or our children. I don't want them to grow up thinking that their mother is some irresponsible crack-whore. But I know anyway, that it's the truth," she choked.

"You're not," Roger said, firmly. "Your kids are not going to think that. They're going to think of their mother as a beautiful, loving and caring person, just like I do."

Mimi sniffed. "But I can't help but hate myself…I keep thinking back to that one night…if only if I hadn't of come home drunk. If only I'd been more responsible. If only I had any sense in me, like Isabella and Daisha."

"You didn't give yourself AIDS, Mimi. That boy did."

"But it was my fucking fault! I was drunk!" Mimi yelled. "I fucked everything up for myself. For you, and for our babies. Joel was right. All I am is some druggie-slut. I'm almost glad my father's dead. I wouldn't want him to see me like this," she hiccupped.

Roger felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Mimi this upset. He lifted his hands in attempt to brush away the tears streaming down her face. "Don't _ever say that about yourself," he said, softly. "No matter what happens, no matter what __anyone says. I love you. And nothing is ever going to make me think otherwise. And our kids will love you too. Both of us. They're going to be proud of you."_

Mimi still looked unconvinced.

"You can't change the past, Mimi," Roger whispered. "What happened to you was terrible. It wasn't your fault. And you can't let one mistake steer the rest of your life out of control. I love you. Mark, Collins, Maureen, Joanne- they all love you too. And Angel sure as hell loves you. She's probably looking down at you right now, thinking you're being foolish for feeling so sorry for yourself. Remember what you used to tell me? There's only _now_? You can't live your life in fear just because of something that happened in the past, especially when you can't change your past. You need to focus on _now. Now you have me, you have Mark, Collins, Maureen, everyone- you're having twins in August!"_

Roger saw Mimi smile, softly.

"And you have this," Roger said, softly, reaching for something out of his back pocket.

"What is it?" Mimi whispered.

"I've been thinking about this for a long time. At first we said we'd decide this after the babies are born. But you're right- we have to live in the moment. We have to live life while we can." He revealed to her a small, black velvet box.

"Roger," Mimi said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Mimi Marquez," Roger said softly, opening the small box to reveal a gold ring with a tiny diamond set in it. "Will you marry me?"

Mimi's tears suddenly turned to tears of happiness, as she began to cry out of utter joy.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I will marry you."

Roger took her hand, which was shaking, and slid the ring gently onto her ring finger. He brushed the tears out of her face with his fingers, and pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes and kissed her, softly.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered through her tears.

Roger pulled her towards him, and slid his jacket off and draped it around her shoulders.

Mimi pulled her knees in towards her chest, and leaned against Roger, and closed her eyes.

Roger ran his fingers through her hair, and looked out again at he view in front of him. The sun was now almost hidden, as it began to began to set.

Roger looked down at Mimi, and wondered if he should tell her to open her eyes so she could see. But by the small smile on her face, Roger could tell that she already sensed it.

Review!!!


	36. Good News

*Author's Note* It has come to my attention that very few of you actually read this story. I thought maybe it was because I don't provide summaries of each chapter, and therefore you have nothing motivating you to read. So from now on, I'll try doing that and see how it works. Keep up the good work, all you beautiful people, Daphne, Michelle, Cary, etc. ;-)

A cold gust of wind startled Roger and wakened him instantly.

"Jesus Christ," he mumbled, seeing Mimi leaning against him, her eyes closed. They had fallen asleep on the roof.

Roger shivered.

Mimi stirred, the sight movement of Roger's body waking her up. "Baby?" she said, sleepily.

Roger leaned his head towards her and kissed her.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey," she grinned. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying the night before, and her nose was bright red from the cold.

"You look like a reindeer," Roger informed her.

"What?"

"Your nose is all red."

"So is yours," Mimi replied, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand. Then she pulled her hand away from her face, holding it out in front of her so she could admire the ring. It was on her pinkie finger, since the size Roger had bought was too small for her ring finger.

Mimi smiled, contently. She had almost thought that she had dreamt Roger's proposal.

"You wanna go inside?" Roger asked, sliding out from under her. "It's fucking freezing."

"Okay," Mimi nodded.

Roger held out his arm to her, and she latched onto it, pulling herself to her feet.

"I don't know how we could have fallen asleep," Roger muttered. "It's like frickin Alaska here."

Mimi shrugged. "We were both tired," she said.

Roger laughed. "We're gonna have to give Mark some sort of explanation."

"Do you want to tell him?"

"Why not?"

Mimi shrugged. "I don't know. I thought maybe you might want to wait to tell them."

"Maybe…how about we all get together as a group, and then tell them the news?"

"In the Loft?"

"I guess. Besides, we're probably going to end up sick from sleeping out here, so it'd be better that we infect as few people as possible," Roger laughed.

"Okay," Mimi agreed, wrapping her arms which were lost inside her extra-long sleeves around his neck.

Slowly, the two of them made their way downstairs.

***

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Frosty the Snowman himself," Mark commented, as Roger and Mimi entered The Loft.

"Hi, Mark," Roger said, grinning sheepishly. "We…"

Mark held up his hands. "I don't want to know."

"Hey, guys," Jan said, entering the room from the kitchen, sporting a fuzzy pink bathrobe.

"I invited Jan over for the night, since it seemed like we would be alone," Mark grinned.

"You ass. Why didn't you come get us?"

"Well, when I realized you two were up there in the freezing cold, and for some insane reason not coming down…I figured you had your reasons…and didn't want to disturb you," Mark said, taking a sip from a steaming mug he was carrying.

"We _fell asleep_," Mimi exclaimed, gently taking the mug from Mark and taking a small sip.

"Right," Mark teased, grabbing the Mark back from her, being careful not to slosh the liquid over the side.

"Do you guys have anything planned tonight?" Roger asked Mark and Jan.

Mark shrugged. "Probably not. Why?"

"Mimi and I wanted to have a little get together. You know, us, Collins, Frankie, Maureen…" he trailed off.

"And Joanne," Jan reminded him.

"Joanne's back?"

"Joanne's back," Jan nodded.

"Maureen called to tell us the news. I haven't heard her sounding that happy in a long time," Mark said, grinning. "Apparently Joanne surprised her by coming back last night."

"Well, I'm glad they made up," Roger said. "Now Maureen'll be back to her normal self."

"Unfortunately," Mark joked. 

"So you think you guys could all meet up here later?"

"I guess so. Why?"

"No reason, really," Roger shrugged, winking at Mimi.

"Whatever," Mark said, shrugging.

"I'm going to take a hot shower," Mimi announced. "Before I freeze to death."

"Mind if I join you?" Roger asked, grinning.

Mimi shrugged and smiled. "I suppose so."

Mark looked at Jan and rolled his eyes as Roger and Mimi disappeared into the other room.

***

"Who is it?" Roger said, coming to the door.

"Room service!" Roger heard Maureen's painfully bad French accent.

"Hey guys," he greeted, opening the door to reveal Maureen, Joanne, Collins and Frankie.

"Hey Rog," Maureen said, giving Roger a peck on the cheek.

Roger grinned. Maureen was back to her normal self.

"No dog?" Mark asked, leaning forward in his armchair so he could see the group in the doorway.

"Nope, no dog. She's getting spayed," Frankie told him.

Mark's eyes widened. "You mean like neutered?"

"No, I mean like spayed."

"So she can't get pregnant anymore?" Jan said to him.

Mark blushed. "I know what it means."

"Hey guys," Mimi said, entering the room. She wore an extra large gray sweatshirt which nearly came down to her knees, and an old pair of sweatpants. She was toweling off her curly with one hand and tying the drawstring on the waistband of her pants with the other.

"Hey Meems," Roger grinned, wrapping his arm around her.

"Heard you guys fell asleep on the roof," Collins commented.

Roger rolled his eyes. "We lost track of the time and fell asleep. Didn't we?" he asked Mimi, jabbing her lightly in the ribs.

Mimi giggled. "Yeah."

Collins shrugged. "Okay," he said, walking into the living room and plopping down in the seat across from Mark. Frankie followed him and sat down next to him.

"So you guys are cool again?" Roger asked Maureen and Joanne.

Maureen nodded, eagerly. "Yup."

"Under certain conditions," Joanne teased.

"Shut up," Maureen said, kissing her.

"So, why'd you gather us all up here?" Joanne asked.

"Let me guess- you're having _triplets," Collins declared._

"Unfortunately, no," Roger laughed, seeing the pale look on Mimi's face.

"Well, what's the deal, then?" Mark asked. Jan was now perched on his lap, sipping from a bottle of water.

"Why don't we all sit down first," Roger said, motioning towards the living room.

"I can tell this is gonna be good," Mark grinned.

Roger and Mimi sat down on the couch together, Collins and Frankie pulled aside two kitchen chairs, and Joanne and Maureen shared the footrest. 

"You want to tell them?" Roger asked Mimi, slipping his fingers through hers, feeling the ring on her finger.

"Okay," she whispered, smiling at him. She straightened up and fixated her gaze on the others. She decided to just flat out tell them.

"Guys,… last night, Roger proposed to me. We're engaged. We're going to get married," she grinned.

Silence.

"SHUT UP!" Maureen shrieked, jumping out of her seat to attack Mimi and Roger with hugs.

Mark and Jan stood up to congratulate them as well.

"Congratulation, Rog. I can't believe it," Mark grinned, shaking his head.

"You two are going to have such a beautiful wedding," Frankie cried, hugging Mimi.

"Thanks," Mimi giggled.

'Let me see the ring!" Maureen exclaimed, seizing Mimi's wrist. "It's gorgeous!" she breathed.

"Are you going to marry before or after the babies are born?" Collins asked, patting Roger on the shoulder.

Roger looked at Mimi. "Well, we haven't really discussed that yet…it doesn't really matter, though. Because whatever we do, we're going be happy together," he said, smiling at Mimi.

"Oh, God," Maureen sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes. "You guys are going live such a happy life together…"

"Honey, you're talking like you're never going to see them again," Joanne laughed, rubbing Maureen's back.

"Sorry. I'm just so happy for you two," Maureen smiled, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Thanks, Mo," Mimi grinned.

"Are we the first ones you've told?" Collins asked Roger.

Roger nodded.

"I'm probably going to tell my mother and sisters tomorrow," Mimi said.

"Same with me. I'll have to tell my folks over the phone, though," Roger winced. "That's gonna be a party."

"I'm so exciting for the wedding!" Maureen gushed. "Do you guys know where you're having it? Who's gonna pick out the dresses? Did you pick out the bridesmaids yet?"

"Calm down, Mo, I only just proposed to her," Roger laughed.

Mimi looked up at Roger. "I guess we could have it someplace here in the city…or somewhere else if you have anything in mind."

"I haven't really given it much thought yet. But we could decide together," Roger assured her.

"God. My best friend's having twins AND getting married," Mark said, shaking his head. "Seems like just yesterday he was playing in his garage band and wearing fake tattoos."

"Fake tattoos?" Mimi said, looking at Roger.

Roger blushed. "My parents wouldn't let me get one, so I used to wear those temporary ones."

"You're so bad-ass," Mimi teased.

"Hey, at least I didn't pierce my tongue. Besides, that would interfere with things."

"Enough!" Mark commanded, seeing where the conversation was going.

Jan nuzzled her head against his shoulder. "Maybe you should get a tattoo," she grinned.

Mark shook his head. "My mom would kill me."

"So I still don't see how the two of you ended up spending the rest of the night on the roof…" Collins said, raising his eyebrows.

"I told you, Col, we fell asleep," Roger said.

Mark looked at Collins and shook his head.

"We did!" Roger argued.

Collins shrugged. "Whatever."

"You guys have such nasty minds. You…" Roger made a face and sneezed, startling Mimi so that she jumped.

"God bless you," she exclaimed.

"Thanks," Roger said, rubbing his nose. "Looks like I'm getting a cold for staying up there so long."

Mimi sighed. "I'll probably be getting a cold too now."

Joanne poked Maureen in the side. "I told you my mom's chicken noodle recipe would come in handy one day."

"Oh, you guys don't have to do that," Mimi protested.

"It's nothing," Joanne said.

"Yeah. It'll be an early wedding present," Maureen said, grinning.

Roger sighed and gently pulled Mimi towards him. "God, I can't believe we're going to be married."

"Neither can I," Mimi whispered, pressing her lips against his neck.

Mark laughed. "Do you two need to be left alone?"

"That's probably a good idea. I wouldn't want you guys getting sick," Roger said, wickedly.

Joanne and Maureen stood up. "We'll see you later," Maureen said, hugging the both of them.

"Ditto," Collins agreed, as he and Frankie got up to leave.

"Congratulations, you two," Collins grinned, patting Roger on the back.

"Thanks," Roger smiled.

The four of them went out the door.

Roger stared at Mark.

"What?! I live here," Mark protested.

Jan laughed. "Come on, Mark. We can go to my place. Let's leave these two lovebirds alone,"

Mark sighed. "Okay. I'll see you guys later?"

Roger and Mimi nodded.

"Okay. Congratulations again, guys," he grinned. "I knew you had it in you, Rog."

"Bye, Mark," Roger laughed.

"So, you think you're getting a cold too?" Roger asked Mimi once everyone had left.

"Yeah. I'm feeling a little stuffy," Mimi sniffed.

"Want to try to sleep it off?"

Mimi laughed. "You'll use any excuse, won't you?"

Roger stuck out his lower lip and nuzzled his head against her chest.

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Okay, Romeo. Let's 'sleep it off,'" she laughed, standing up.

Roger followed her into the bedroom and closed the door gently behind them.


	37. If You Can't Beat 'Em

Author's Note: I know, I haven't updated in forever. I've been pretty busy with schoolwork and crap. So I sincerely apologize. Just in case you have forgotten, a little mind-refresher on these characters:

Isabella: Mimi's older sister (by five years)

Daisha: Mimi's younger sister (by five years)

Oliver Caldwell: The scumbag art agent who tried to hit it in the sack with Maureen ^_^

Mitch: Roger's old college roommate

*One other thing…just for reference…the character Jan is _not_ based on me, even though we share a name. I was having a brain fart when I created the character, and couldn't think of anything else to name her.

MARCH 28TH

"Guys, just tell me what it is!"

"Keep your eyes closed," Isabella instructed Jan and Maureen, as they slowly made their way into the Loft.

"Is covering my eyes _really_ necessary?" Mimi complained.

"Yes," Isabella said, "Because knowing you, you would peek."

"I would not," Mimi said, hiding a smile.

"Liar. Daish, get the door, would you?"

Daisha pushed the door open, and the five girls made their way inside, making sure Mimi's eyes were closed.

"Closer…forward a bit more…okay. You can open!"

"This better be good," Mimi teased, as she pushed Maureen's hands away from her eyes. "Oh, you guys…" she gasped.

They were standing in the dining room (as Roger, Mimi and Mark still called it, even though it had been converted into a nursery.) The now lime-green walls had a dewy glow to them now that the one window that led to the fire escape was open. Earlier, she and Roger had added frilly off-white curtains to add some style. Mimi gawked, delightedly at the new items in the room.

Facing both opposite sides of the rooms were two wooden cribs, both with teddy bear sheets and lining. In the middle of the room, a teddy bear throw-rug covered the wooden floor, and two strollers rested on top of that. Mimi also saw two mobiles hanging above each crib; both with an outer space motif, including stars, moons, suns, among other things.

Mimi stood in the doorway, shaking her head in amazement. "When did you…_how_ did you…"

"We've been planning on getting you some wedding slash baby presents for a while," Maureen explained. "We finally went through with it and went shopping yesterday at 'Babies 'R' Us.'" She grinned. "I used some of the money that I made off the paintings that Oliver bought from me."

"I don't know what to say…thank you so much, guys," Mimi grinned, turning to them.

"Joanne and I chipped in to buy the two cribs…Jan and Isabella did their share and bought the strollers, and rug. And we all put in our share for the mobiles."

"And I got you these," Daisha announced, handing Mimi two plush teddy bears.

"Jesus Christ, I feel like it's Christmas or something," Mimi laughed, setting one bear in each crib. "Thanks, Daish," she smiled, kissing her younger sister on the cheek.

"Your welcome. I was going to buy them booties, but then I couldn't decide on a color…I didn't want to get pink ones for a boy, or blue ones for a girl…"

"When _are_ you finding out their sex?" Jan asked Mimi.

"Well…I'm almost four months along now. I can't find out whether I'm having boys or girls…"

"Or both," Daisha interrupted.

"Until I'm six months along," Mimi finished.

Maureen groaned and leaned against the windowsill. "I hate not knowing. I wanna know whether I'm having nieces or nephews!"

"And how does that work out?" Mimi asked her, with an amused look on her face.

"How does what work out?"

"You becoming my babies' aunt?"

"Simple. Um…I'm close family. Hell, I'm _part_ of the family. I'm in your apartment often enough, aren't I?" Maureen grinned.

"So that makes me their aunt too," Jan declared, grinning.

"Don't forget Joanne," Maureen added. "She would've been here with us, but she's with her parents in New Jersey."

"Wow. They're not even born yet and already they have three aunts. Five, including Daisha and Isabella," Mimi said, shaking her head.

"Look on the bright side. The more relatives, the more gifts at the baby shower," Maureen joked.

"Good point," Mimi rolled her eyes. "Does Roger know that you bought all of this stuff for us?"

"Nope. But Mark does."

"Why Mark and not Roger?"

Maureen pointed to Jan. "As long as she's around, there's not keeping secrets from Marky."

Jan grinned, sheepishly. "He hounded me. He wanted to know why we all took Joanne's car by ourselves."

"So, where _are_ Mister Mark Cohen and Mister Roger Davis-Marquez?" Maureen asked.

Mimi couldn't help but smile when she added her surname to Roger's.

"You know them. Boy's night out. A celebration of the engagement."

"Or an excuse to get drunk," Daisha laughed.

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Roger better come home sober tonight. Otherwise he's not going to be let inside." 

***

"I'd like to propose a toast!" Collins announced, standing with Roger, Mark, and Mitch in the living room in his and Frankie's apartment. "To Roger Davis, his fiance, and his unborn children."

"Here, here," Mark said, clinking his glass against everyone else's.

"Amen," Mitch added, taking a sip.

Roger tilted back his head and let the cool liquid run down his throat. "It's not the same," he said to Collins, who shrugged apologetically.

"Sorry. Frankie said as long as we're having a little 'manly' get-together that involves making toasts, she'll only let us have Iced Tea."

Mark snorted.

"Besides," Collins said, glancing at Pepper and her two puppies who were seated on the other side of the room, watching them intently, "I have a reputation to keep. Don't want to wrongly influence my grandchildren."

"Oh, yes, we wouldn't want Pepper to steal the car keys and get a fake ID and sneak into a rave, now would we?" Mark said, with a serious look on his face.

"God, Mark, what crawled up your ass and died?" Roger laughed, taking another sip of iced tea.

"So, Roger…how've you been coping?" Mitch asked, when Mark pretended not to hear him.

"With what?"

"With Mimi."

"I, uh…well, I've known her for about two years now…"

"I mean _pregnant_ Mimi."

"Ohhh…uh, she's alright. A bit bitchy at times. And she's been feeling really lousy in the morning. The other day she barely made it into the bathroom in time."

"I feel for you," Mitch said, wincing. "Karen was the same way. It was like she was bipolar or something. One minute she was her normal self, and the next, it was like a PMS attack. It's crazy."

"Thanks for cheering me up," Roger said, sarcastically.

"Oh, don't worry, of course it'll _stop_ in a few months…how far along did she say she was?"

"Almost four months."

"Well, then…you've only got five more months left until you officially become a dad."

"Feels more like five years," Roger groaned. "I wish they'd just pop out already."

"You'll probably have your mind on other things in the meantime," Mark said. "After all, you're getting married in May."

Roger grinned in spite of himself. "Yeah, I guess you're right…"

"I still can't believe you're getting _married_," Mitch said, shaking his head. "Seems like only yesterday we were roomies in college, and you were practicing with your old garage band…"

"Mitch, we've heard this story before," Roger said, smacking his arm.

Mitch shrugged. "Mark knows what I'm talking about. You remember that, Mark? They never made it out of the garage."

Mark laughed. "Yeah, I remember. You guys thought you were hot shit."

Roger blushed. "We were _good_."

"Yeah, right, that's why you never heard back from CBGB's or any other clubs that you sent in your tape to," Mark teased.

"I wish I could've seen all this," Collins mused.

"We have tapes of it!" Mark exclaimed. "I just remembered I used to film you guys whenever you practiced. Or the few times that you ever played somewhere besides the garage."

Roger gave him a dirty look.

"You should bring them over some time- we could have a little get together. It should be entertaining," Mitch said, wickedly.

"This I have to see," Collins laughed.

"I'll look for the tapes tonight. I know I have them stashed away _somewhere_."

"I'll kill you," Roger said to Mark, in a serious tone.

"We'll live," Mark grinned. "It's too big of an opportunity to pass up."

"Boys, it's six- clear out," Frankie announced, walking into the living room.

"Jesus, Col, you run a tight ship in here, don't you?" Roger observed.

"You guys know the rules. You stay until five thirty. And you got an extra half hour. Scram!"

Collins laughed, moving over to Frankie and kissing her gently. "Sorry, guys. You know the drill."

"I should be getting home anyway," Mitch admitted, standing up. "Karen's all alone with Eva. I should really be helping her out."

"See, there, that's a good daddy," Mark said. "We can all hope that you will be as well mannered, Rog."

"My kids'll behave themselves," Roger declared.

Frankie snorted. "Good luck. Out."

"Okay, okay," Roger grumbled, standing to his feet. "I'm going."

"I'll come upstairs with you. Jan and I are going to head back to her place."

Roger gave him an odd look. "I should really be charging you to live in our apartment. You're hardly ever there anymore," he joked.

"Yes I am," Mark argued.

Roger shrugged. "Whatever. Let's go, guys. Before Frankie bites all of our heads off."

***

"Alone at last," Mark murmured, closing the door behind him and Jan.

"Finally," Jan smiled. "It's been a long week."

"Yeah," Mark said, flopping down onto Jan's bed. "On top of supporting Roger with his unborn kids, and helping him out with the wedding…"

"So he asked you to be his best man?" Jan asked.

Mark grinned. "Yeah. I'm the best man, Collins is going to be the ring bearer, you, Isabella, Daisha, Frankie and Joanne are going to be the bridesmaid, and Maureen is going to be Mimi's matron of honor. Mitch is going to be one of the ushers. And they're still figuring the rest out."

"That's a lot of bridesmaids. It must be fun," Jan said, yawning.

"What?"

"Planning a wedding. You know, deciding who to invite, who does what, the place, the decorations, the cake…" her voice trailed off.

"Frankie's also helping out with the decorations, and the arrangements of everything," Mark added. "They're not sure of where they're going to have the actual wedding, though."

"Well, they have a little while longer to plan it all out," Jan shrugged.

"Yeah," Mark said, as he undressed and slipped into an old T-shirt and a plaid pair of pajama pants.

"April and I used to plan out our weddings when we were little," Jan grinned, as she pulled her nightgown over her head. "We wanted to have a double-wedding. So we'd both get married at the same time, and neither of us would be jealous of the other. And we wanted everything to be orange."

"Orange?" Mark frowned.

"Yeah, orange. Orange bridal grown, orange bridesmaid dresses, orange wedding cake…"

Mark laughed. "You two must have been pretty weird kids."

"Yeah, well," Jan shrugged.

Mark smiled and leaned over to kiss her as he slid into the bed beside her, turning off the light. "Maybe we'll be planning our own wedding soon," he whispered into her air.

Jan smiled. "Maybe."

"Night, babe."

"Night, Marky. I love you."

***

Jan woke up in the middle of the night with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She rolled onto her side and saw on the alarm clock that it was three in the morning. She groaned, and lay on her back. It felt like she was having a really bad case of cramps. But it wasn't that time of the month yet…

Worriedly, she slid out of bed, being careful not to wake Mark. She tiptoed quietly into the bathroom, and switched on the light.

To her horror, the lower front of her nightgown was soaked in her own blood. The sinking feeling in her stomach seemed to sink lower and lower, until the point that she felt as if she were literally draining, and fading away.

"Mark," she called out, but her voice was barely more than a whisper, and coated with fright. 

"MARK!" she screamed again, "HELP ME!"

***

Author's Note: Dun dah dah dah DAHHHHHHHH. What's wrong with Jan? Find out in the next installment of 'How Do You Leave the Past Behind?' Yeah, sorry for the cliffhanger. I wasn't going to have that happen until the next chapter, but as I started typing up this one, I realized how boring it was, so I needed to throw in something exciting. I'm evil. 

Review, por favor!!!


	38. Another Loss

Mark paced the hospital waiting room nervously, running his hands through his uncombed disheveled hair. He hadn't had time to make himself presentable when he rushed Jan out of the house and into the ambulance. Hell, he hadn't had time to do _anything_. He was still wearing his pajamas.

He was too overcome by shock to be fearful, or sad. Instead, he felt angry. 

_What's wrong with Jan? She could be dying. Why didn't she tell me something was wrong?_

The thought occurred to him that whatever was wrong with her, she might not have known about.  He needed someone to take the blame. Whether it was himself, or Jan. Someone was at fault.

It was almost five in the morning. The waiting room was unusually quiet, since there weren't many people there besides Mark.  The silence was eerie.

A few moments later, the hospital entrance burst open to reveal a breathless Roger and Mimi, followed by Maureen, Joanne, Collins and Frankie.

"You guys never stop, do you," Mark said, putting on a weak smile.

"My God, Mark…how is she?" Maureen asked, looking extremely troubled.

"I don't know yet…the doctors aren't saying anything to me. I tried to go in with her, but the nurse kicked me out. I just…don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong with her, I can't…" Mark's words were cut off as his voice become croaked, and with embarrassment he realized he was fighting off tears.

Roger stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She's going to be alright, Mark," he said, softly.

Mark smiled weakly, and nodded.

"They haven't told you _anything_?" Mimi asked, quietly.

Mark shook his head. "No. And I've been here for nearly two hours. They haven't told me what's wrong…haven't even giving me a _guess_ of why she woke up in the middle of the night covered in her own blood…" his voice became choked.

Roger placed his arm around him tighter, not sure of what to say. He gave Mimi a worried glance, and she smiled, forcedly at him.

They all stood in an awkward silence.

A moment later, a doctor entered the waiting room, glancing at a clipboard. 

"Mister Cohen?" he asked.

Mark swiped at his eyes with his sleeve and turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Come with me, please."

Mark looked back at his friends, and they looked back at him with hopeful eyes.

He swallowed and followed the doctor into the hallway.

He followed him down the hallway, and then they made a right, stopping at the first door to Mark's left. Unable to help himself, Mark glanced into the tiny window embedded in the door. He saw Jan, asleep. Her rusty-colored blonde hair was spread out around her pillow. There was an IV attached to her right arm. "What's wrong with her?" he whispered.

"Mister Cohen, your girlfriend has lost quite an amount of blood," the doctor began.

"God damnnit, I _KNOW_ that! She woke me up in the middle of the night covered in it!" he snapped, impatiently. "I don't want all the long details. Please…just tell me what's wrong. Is she going to be okay?"

"She's going to be fine," the doctor assured him. "The bleeding may last for about a week or so. We're going to keep her here during that period, for observations, and to make sure she's getting proper nutrients through the IV, since she's lost so much blood…So that's the good news."

"Good news…" Mark whispered. She was going to be alright. "What's the bad news?" he asked, nervously, dreading the answer.

"The bad news is that she lost the baby," the doctor said to him. "I'm sorry, Mister Cohen. We're not quite sure why it happened…when your wife wakes up perhaps we can find out more. I'm terribly sorry, though. I hate to give you such bad news."

"Baby…" Mark's head was spinning. "What do you mean? What _baby_?"

The doctor gave him an odd look. "Your wife had a miscarriage. She was five weeks pregnant." He blinked. "She didn't tell you?"

"No…she didn't tell me. She must have been waiting to surprise me," he said, quietly. He lifted his head and asked, tiredly, "How did it happen? Losing the baby, I mean." The word 'baby' sounded foreign coming from his mouth.

"Well, there are several possibilities to why it happened. It could be genetic…something having to do with the genes. Maybe something she was exposed to…she doesn't smoke or drink, does she?"

"No," Mark said flatly, "She doesn't."

"It could have been something to do with her hormones. Or even by something physical. Like lifting up something heavy, or having an accident…it might have triggered it."

"She hasn't been doing anything out of the ordinary," Mark said, shaking his head.

"Well…sometimes it happens for no apparent reason. At least, the reason remains unknown. Sometimes it just happens at random. Some women just aren't _built_ to have children…it could be something or the genes, or something to do with the hormones." The doctor saw the pained look on Mark's face. "Of course, neither reasons make it any less of a reason to grieve. I'm terribly sorry, Mister Cohen."

"Thank you," Mark whispered. "Can I see her?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "Unfortunately, not yet. We're going to run a few more tests. Try and see if we can find the cause, if there is one. By tomorrow, when she's a little more awake, it'll probably be okay to see her. Right now we have her on some painkillers…tomorrow morning, you can see her."

"Okay," Mark said, softly. 

"I'm afraid for now there's nothing more you can do…just let her rest, for now. And come back in the morning."

"Right."

"Again, I hate to bring such bad news, Mister Cohen," the doctor said, shaking his head. And with that, he turned and went down the hall, and into another room.

Doctors never appear as sorry as they should be, Mark thought to himself. Probably because they see the same things happen every day.

He peered into Jan's room. "Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

Jan, asleep, could not answer him.

***

"Well?" Maureen asked impatiently as Mark trudged back into the waiting room.

"She's going to be okay," Mark said, bringing relieved looks to all of their faces.

"What's the matter with her?" Joanne asked, her brow furrowed.

Mark hesitated for a moment. "She…" he paused, trying to think of a rational way to tell them. Finally, he decided there was no other way to tell them than to just say it aloud. "She had a miscarriage."

Silence.

Roger was the first to speak up. "Did you know?" he asked, quietly.

"That she was pregnant? No." Mark said, feeling angry. "She didn't tell me. How could she not tell me?"

"Maybe she was waiting to surprise you," Collins offered weakly, his arm wrapped tightly around Frankie.

"Or maybe she was too scared to tell you at first," Mimi murmured. "When I first found out it took a lot of courage to finally tell Roger."

Roger smiled, weakly. "Yeah, it did."

"Maybe she was afraid you wouldn't want the baby," Frankie said, quietly.

"But I just don't get it…why _wouldn't_ I want the baby…guys…it's _me_. I'd hit the ceiling with excitement if I found out my girlfriend was having a baby!" He turned to Roger and Mimi. "When I first found out Mimi was pregnant, I was a little jealous of you, Rog. I've always wanted to be a father…" his voice trailed off. "I just don't understand how she could have been too scared to tell me."

"When can you see her?" Collins asked.

"Tomorrow morning. They're doing some tests now to see if they can find out why it happened…" He shook his head. "I just don't understand it. Why _me_? Just _why_, damn it!"

Mimi moved over towards him and wrapped her arms around him gently.

Roger kept his hand placed protectively on Mark's shoulder. 

Mark gently moved away from them and lowered himself into one of the plastic chairs, holding his head in his hands.

***

A/N: Love it? Hate it? Review, please! Reviews are what motivate me to write more!


	39. Unveiling

_TWO DAYS LATER_

"You sure you don't need anything?" Mark asked Jan softly as he opened the door to her apartment.

"I'm fine," Jan said in an eerily calm voice.

"Are you sure? Because if you need me to I can…"

"Mark-stop. I'm _fine_," Jan said again, through gritted teeth.

Mark sighed and lowered himself into a chair as they entered the kitchen. "Jan? Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"About the baby?"

Jan was silent for a moment. Uncomfortably she drummed her bitten fingernails across the kitchen cower.

"Jan?"

"I heard you," she said, snappishly, taking her hand off the counter. "Yeah…I knew," she said, looking down at her feet.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mark asked, softly.

Jan sighed. "I didn't know how to," she whispered. "I was planning on telling you. I swear I was. I just didn't know how to come out and say it. And I didn't know how you would react…whether or not you'd want me to keep the baby."

"Jan, _of course_ I would have wanted to keep the baby," Mark exclaimed. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I don't _know_, okay?" Jan said, beginning to tear up. "When I found out a hundred thoughts leapt into my head. Whether or not you'd be happy…or angry, or if you'd want me to have an abortion. There were lots of times that I wanted to tell you, but then chickened out. I just didn't know how to give you the news."

"When did you find out?" Mark asked, quietly.

Jan picked at her lower lip nervously. "A couple of weeks ago."

"Did you go to the hospital?"

"No…I used one of those pregnancy tests you get from the drugstore. I'd been feeling really nauseated lately and I hadn't gotten my period…so I just bought one just to be safe. And then I found out I was."

"You should have told me," Mark whispered.

"I know," Jan said, her eyes slowly filling up with tears. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," he said, coming over to embrace her with a hug.

"It's just that I saw how happy Mimi and Roger are right now…having _two_ babies and getting married soon…I'd just have felt so awful if you weren't as happy as Roger…I just don't know _what_ I would have done."

"Are you upset about losing the baby?"

Jan gave him a look. "What the hell kind of question is that? Of _course_ I'm upset! You think I don't care about the fact that I just lost my baby?"

"No, no…I didn't mean it like that," Mark said quickly, rubbing her shaking shoulders. "I just…I don't know. I don't really know what to say about any of this."

"Alright," Jan sniffed, grabbing a tissue from the center of the table and dabbing at her eyes.

"You want me to stay here with you?" Mark asked, softly.

Jan blew her nose. "Actually, I think it would be better if you left," she said, quietly. "I'd like to be alone for a little while.

"Um…okay," Mark said, in an odd surprised voice. He hadn't expected that. "Do you want me to come by tomorrow?"

"I don't know. If you want to. I'm not going to be able to go anywhere for a couple of days…the doctor told me to take it easy and rest."

"Alright," Mark said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. "I'll see you soon, then?"

Jan nodded.

"I'll call you," he added, as he walked backwards toward the door.

"Okay," she said, in a small voice.

Mark felt a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he closed the door behind him.

***

"Rog?"

"Yep?" Roger answered, keeping his eyes glued to the TV screen.

"Am I showing?"

"You're beautiful, babe," he said, still fixated on the football game playing.

"Roger, you're not looking," Mimi complained, stomping over to the couch.

Roger snapped out of it. "Sorry," he apologized. "What?"

"Am I showing?" Mimi asked, sitting down beside him.

"Huh?"

"Am I _showing_? Am I getting…you know, fatter?" Mimi asked, with a worried expression as she lifted her T-shirt to show her midriff.

Roger stared. "I don't know, um. I guess so." He placed a hand gently against the small of Mimi's stomach. "What do you want me to say?"

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Just be honest. Am I getting bigger?"

"Hmmm. You're getting a bit flabbier," he teased, poking her in the middle.

Mimi frowned. "Am I really?"

"Let me check," Roger said, placing both hands on her stomach. "Yup, definitely," he said, beginning to tickle her stomach with his fingers.

"Stop!" Mimi shrieked, pulling away from him.

Roger laughed. "Sorry. You're having a baby, Meems. You're going to swell up whether you like it or not."

"Thanks for being considerate," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Why are you asking, anyway?" he asked.

Mimi shrugged. "I don't know. It's not that I just _know_ I'm pregnant…I _feel_ pregnant. I think I even felt one of them kick this morning."

Roger frowned. "Is that possible this early?"

"I have no idea."

"Let me see," he said, tugging at Mimi's shirt.

"If you start tickling me again I'll kick the shit out of you," she warned. "I have zero tolerance right now."

"Okay, okay," Roger laughed, pressing his palm against Mimi's belly. "Uhh…I feel _something_. I can't be sure of whether it's the babies or if you're just gassy."

"Shut up," Mimi snapped, kicking her foot out of him.

"Jeez, sorry. You really _are_ getting more mood swings."

"Fuck you," Mimi grumbled, curling up on her side.

"How're you feeling in general?"

"Pregnant."

"Other than that."

"Um. Shitty. Nauseated. Disgusting. Whatever you want to call it."

"Did you take any aspirin?"

"Yeah. It hasn't kicked in yet," Mimi said, stretching out more so that her legs lay across Roger's lap.

"It should soon," he assured her.

"Massage my feet," Mimi commanded, raising her foot up toward his face.

"_What_?" Roger laughed, pushing her foot back down.

"Massage my feet. My back hurts and my feet are swelling up and I feel like I'm gonna hurl."

Roger shook his head. "Talk about dramatic. You shouldn't be having back pain until another month or two at least."

Mimi didn't answer and instead began to obnoxiously nudge at his side with her heel.

"Okay, okay," Roger said, taking her foot in his hand.

"Thank you," she murmured, closing her eyes. "Mmm, that feels good."

At that moment, Mark walked into the Loft.

"Hello, stranger," Roger greeted him.

Mark gave him a small smile. "Hi."

"How's Jan doing?" Mimi asked, opening her eyes.

Mark shrugged. "Weird. I mean it's understandable, after what she's been through. She told me she wanted to be alone. So I came back here."

"I'm sorry, Mark," Roger said. "She should be a little less stonier in a few days."

"I hope so," Mark said, sadly, walking further into the Living Room. He stopped. "What the hell are you doing?"

"He's massaging my feet," Mimi said, her eyes closed once again.

Mark gave Roger a weird look.

"Mimi's being a drama queen and has decided to use the fact that she's pregnant to her advantage. She was bitching to me about whether or not she's gotten any fatter."

Mark couldn't help but smile. "Has she?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

"Oh, yes. She's just a regular Jabba the Hut now. Ow!" he exclaimed, as Mimi kicked him in the side.

"You deserved it. Asshole," she growled.

Roger gave Mark a _you__ see what I mean?-_look.

Mark shrugged. "Whatever. I think I'm going to go get something to eat. I feel like I haven't eaten since…you know. When it happened."

"Okay," Roger said, in a sympathetic voice. "You need to borrow any money?"

Mark shook his head. "That's alright. Thanks anyway."

Roger gave him a knowing smile. "Okay. Take is easy, okay?"

Mark nodded. "Alright. Thanks."

"I feel so bad," Roger said quietly, once Mark had left.

Mimi was silent for a moment. "Rog?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever get worried that…it could happen to _us_?"

"What do you mean?"

"That maybe…I might have a miscarriage."

"Has that been bothering you?"

"Well, the thought's entered my mind…but not until Jan had one did I start to really worry about it." She paused. "Do you?"

"Of course I do, Meems. All parents worry about that. Especially when having their first kid. Or two, in this case."

"I just don't know what I would do if that happened to us," Mimi said, slowly.

Roger placed his hand on her growing stomach. "Let's just take it one day at a time, okay?"

"Okay," Mimi said, still seeming unconvinced.

Roger her kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, babe," he smiled. "And I love you two too," he said, patting her stomach gently.

Mimi laughed. "I don't think they can hear you."

Roger shrugged and smiled. "They can."

***

Maureen concentrated carefully on the huge canvas displayed out in front of her. Ever since her niche for painting had been discovered, Maureen and Joanne had cleared out the dining room, which was rarely used, and was now used as Maureen's 'Studio Room.'

Her hair was tied back by an old bandanna tying back her curly strawberry blonde hair, and she was wearing a pair of old ripped jeans and an oversized smock. She'd been working on this one particular painting for about a month now. The canvas was smaller than that of which she was used to painting on, therefore she was almost finished. She didn't allow Joanne to enter the room. Not unless she was there to accompany her. She claimed she wanted to be present to 'Present the painting' to her.

Maureen stuck the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, and her brow furrowed. "Why do you have to have such an odd-shaped head?" she murmured as she struggled to make her current portrait as lifelike as possible. About half an hour later, she got up to take a break and take a shower. A few moments later, Joanne approached the closed door, and knocked on it gently.

"Honey?" she called, tapping on the door gently. "I brought you something to drink." She paused. There was no answer.

"Mo?" she asked softly, pushing the door open slightly. Once she was a few steps in, she couldn't help herself but enter the room completely. Curiously, she unmasked the canvas that had a heavy sheet over it. She raised her eyebrows. It was a portrait of…Mark. Joanne scrutinized the painting, chewing at her lower lip in confusion. "That's weird," she said, frowning. Why would Maureen be painting a picture of Mark?

Without an answer, Joanne placed the glass of water she's brought with her on the windowsill, where Maureen would see it. Taking one last odd look at the painting before throwing the sheet back over it, she shook her head and quietly exited the room.

***

A/N: Whoooot. Reviews, por favor! As a b-day present! I'm gonna be 15 tomorrow! Hollerrrrrr.


	40. Like Drowned Rats

"Mark?"

Mark groggily awoke late the next day to hear someone lightly tapping on his front door. Feeling hopeful, he scrambled for his bathrobe and shoved his feet inside his slippers, rushing to open the door.

"Jan?" he said, as he swung it open.

"Not exactly…" It was Maureen.

"Oh," Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment. "Sorry, Maureen."

"It's okay," Maureen said, giving him a sympathetic smile. "How're you holding up?"

"Well," Mark said slowly, shuffling his slippers around the wooden floor. "I haven't heard from Jan in three days. I tried calling her a bunch of times but I think she unplugged the phone." A sad look came over his face. "I'm really worried about her, Mo."

"I know," Maureen said quietly, putting an arm around his shoulder. "Jan's been through a rough time. It's only to be expected that she'd be a little…well, off lately."

"I know," Mark sighed. "I just feel awful about what happened. I keep thinking that there could have been someway I could have prevented…you know…"

"I know."

They were both silent for a moment. "Do you think she still loves me, Maureen?" Mark whispered, in a voice that just about ripped Maureen's heart into pieces.

"Yes…yes, of course she does!" she insisted, squeezing his arm gently. "Her way of coping is just to be alone, that's all. Pretty soon you should be hearing from her."

Mark gave a small smile. "You really think so?"

Maureen nodded. "After all. How could anyone resist a guy like you?"

Mark let out a weak laugh. He stood up straighter and cocked his head to look down the hall. "Did you come alone?"

"Yeah. I asked Joanne if she wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. She seems kind of…off, lately."

Mark frowned. "I'm sorry, Mo."

"Not your fault," Maureen said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "She's just had these weird mood swings lately."

Mark nodded and leaned against the door.

They were both quiet.

"Mark? Do you ever miss…you know, _us_?"

"As a couple, you mean?" Mark asked, slowly.

Maureen nodded.

"I guess…I mean, sometimes. I mean…well when we were together we almost _never_ got along, Mo." He paused. "Why?"

Maureen gave him a sad smile. "It's just that lately I've been thinking of Joanne not as a lover…but just as a friend. And I keep wondering whether or not I made the right decision to leave you."

Mark was slow to reply, overcome by uneasiness. "We both agreed it would be for the best."

"I know. But I'm having regrets. I've been thinking a lot like 'What if?' What if we were still together?" she gave him a shy look. "Do you ever think about that?"

"Well, sometimes," Mark admitted.

"You were the only guy who ever really cared about me, Mark. Jimmy treated me like shit. As did all my other boyfriends. And Joanne and I respect each other…but I just don't know how I feel about her anymore," she sighed, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes. "I just feel really confused, lately. I just miss you, Mark."

"I miss you too," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder lightly.

"Do you really mean that?"

He nodded. "I care about you, Maureen. You're one of my best friends. Even with all the shit we've been through, we've always been there for each other."

"Yeah…," Maureen said, in a far away voice.

They both stood in an uneasy silence for a couple of minutes.

"Mo?"

"Yes?" Maureen whispered.

"Do you want to…have dinner with me tonight? Just as friends," he added, quickly.

Maureen smiled. "Sure."

"It's just that, I've been missing Jan's company…I could really use a friend right now. And Roger's up to his elbows helping Mimi out now."

"Okay," Maureen nodded, giving him a grin. "Where do you want to go?"

"How about the Life Café? Like old times?"

Maureen raised her eyebrows. "Like old times? You _sure_?"

Mark nodded. "Why not?"

"Well…okay," Maureen agreed.

"I'll come downstairs to pick you up at seven?"

"Seven…yes."

Mark paused. "What will you tell Joanne?"

Maureen thought for a minute. "I'll tell her the truth. That we're going to dinner together. Just the two of us. As _friends_."

Mark grinned. "Deal. I'll see you later tonight, okay? I've gotta take a shower now."

"Alright," Maureen smiled. "I'll see you tonight."

***

"What're you doing?" Roger asked Frankie, as she plopped a clipboard and a pen down in front of him.

"You and Mimi need to start planning out your wedding," she declared.

"What? Collins, call her off, man!"

"You don't want to leave it all to the last minute, do you Rog?" Collins asked, from the other side of the room.

Roger glanced at Mimi, who sat across from him at the kitchen table, sipping some herbal tea that Frankie had given her and flipping through a 'Parenting' magazine.

"What?" she said when she saw him looking at her.

"Do _you_ want to plan our wedding right now?"

Mimi set down her mug. "Why not?"

"Oh, alright," Roger grumbled, reaching for the pen.

"Atta-boy," Collins grinned.

Roger rolled his eyes. "Well we already know who our best men and bridesmaids are going to be, right? Mark and Collins as the best men, Maureen, Joanne, Frankie, Jan, and Isabella as the maids oh honor," he said, as he scribbled the names down on the clipboard.

"I want Isabella to be my matron of honor," Mimi interrupted.

Roger stared at the piece of paper. "Okay," he said, erasing the title by Isabella' name and writing 'MATRON OF HONOR' in its place.  
  


"What else do we need?"

"Haven't you ever been to a wedding?" Frankie asked.

"Uh…no," Roger said, grinning sheepishly.

"Well. Another thing you'll need is a flower girl. And a ring bearer."

"Ring bearer," Roger repeated, as he wrote furiously. "Who'd be the flower girl?"

"How about Daisha?" Collins suggested.

"Isn't fifteen a little old to be a flower girl?" Roger asked, looking at Mimi.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's okay."

"Or maybe Mark could be the flower girl," Roger said, as he wrote, glancing up to see whether or not Mimi had reacted to his statement.

She smiled and rolled her eyes, picking her mug back up and taking a long sip.

"What am I doing?" Mark asked, as he sauntered into the kitchen.

"You're up," Roger observed.

Mark smiled, weakly. "That's right, Sherlock. I would've been up earlier but Maureen stopped by to see how I was doing." He paused. "So what am I doing?"

"Oh. You're the flower girl."

"Score," Mark said, walking over to the refrigerator and retrieving a carton of orange juice.

"You can have Chad as the ring bearer," Mimi suggested.

"Alright…does that take care of all the important people?"

"The _important_ people?"

"You know what I mean," Roger said, blushing.

"Well, yeah. I also want Frankie to be our wedding designer and help with the food and stuff," Mimi said, smiling at Frankie.

"Sale y bale," Roger said, scribbling it down.

"What?"

"Sale y bale. Okey dokey."

"That's Spanish," Mimi said.

"I know. Do you expect me to live in the same apartment as you and not pick up any Spanish?" Roger grinned.

Mimi grumbled and stuck her tongue out at him in weak defense.

"Alright, now for just people in general…," Roger said. 

"My mother, Isabella and Daisha," Mimi said, automatically.

"Okay. And my parents. And my sister. And the rest of the Well Hungarians, and Karmine."

"Don't forget Mitch and Karen," Mimi added.

"Alright. Who else?"

"My mom," Mark answered.

Roger grinned. "Your mom."

"_Your_ mom."

"Your…"

"God damn it, _I'll_ do it," Mimi exclaimed, reaching across the table for the clipboard.

Roger raised his eyebrows and mouthed _MEOW_ to Mark, who nodded.

Mimi paused, staring at the paper.

"What's wrong?"

"What's that say?" she frowned, turning the clipboard towards him.

"Can't you read?"

Mimi rolled her eyes. "I can read. I just can't read your chicken-scratch."

"It's not chicken scratch!" Roger protested, "Look, it says _Mark's mom. _There's the M right there."

Mimi shrugged. "Whatever."

"You skip a yogurt or something this morning?" Roger asked, impatiently.

"What?"

"I think you woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

"I'm carrying two extra life forms," Mimi grumbled. "I think I have the right to be a bitch."

"Meems, you're barely even showing yet," Roger argued.

"Yeah I am! I'm as big as a house!"

The others glanced at each other uneasily. "Rog, you want us to let you finish this by yourselves?" Collins asked, looking at them both nervously.

Roger nodded. "I guess so. I'll see you guys later."

The three of them trudged out of the kitchen.

"Are you mad at me?" Roger asked.

"_No!_ I'm not!" Mimi exclaimed, impatiently. "You always think I'm mad at you lately."

"Can you blame me? Lately all you've been doing is complaining and bitching."

"Shut up," Mimi grumbled, using the pen as a magic wand in attempt to shut him up.

"That's it," Roger declared.

Mimi glared at him. "What's it?"

"You need to cool down."

Mimi made a 'World's Smallest Violin' motion with her thumb and forefinger.

"Come on," Roger said, tugging on her arm.

"Let go," she snapped, as he tugged her out of the kitchen.

"What're you doing?" she groaned as he pulled her along. She saw he was heading towards the bathroom. "Roger?" she said, in an alarmed voice.

Roger hid a smile and pulled her into the bathroom.

"_Roger!_"

"I said you need to cool down, Meems, and I wasn't joking," Roger declared, carrying her into the bathroom and placing her into the empty tub.

Mimi's eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

Roger turned on the showerhead.

"YOU ASS!" Mimi screeched, clinging to his sleeve, trying to either pull him in with her or pull herself out, he couldn't tell. "That's IT! I'm not having your kids! I'm not planning this wedding with you! I'm moving back to Panama and you can have all the silence you want."

Roger was laughing.

"Asshole," Mimi grumbled, tugging at his arm, and Roger gave in, toppling into tub beside her.

"There. You happy?" he grinned at her.

"No."

"You look like a drowned rat," he said.

"Fuck you," she said, trying to hide a smile.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Do you still want to get married?"

"Y…no."

"I love you."

"Go away," Mimi said, stubbornly.

"Hey, it's my bathroom too," Roger said, turning off the water.

"Thanks."

"For turning off the water?"

"No."

"For what, then?"

"I don't know." She was no longer able to hide her smile.

Roger smiled and leaned in to kiss her damp forehead. "Do you forgive me?"

"Yeah." She smiled.

Roger kissed her again and then looked around them. "Well, have a look at us. We're sitting in the shower with our clothes on."

"Imagine that," Mimi said, rolling her eyes.

"Come on," Roger said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Before we both drown."

"What're we going to tell the others when they see us soaking wet?" she asked, as their bare feet squeaked against the wooden floor.

Roger grinned. "Tell them it was raining.

***

A/N: Awwwww. I'm sorry, I just needed one of those really stupid sappy moments to happen. I know they're stupid. And sappy. But I thought it was cute, haha. Sorry for you all to have to sit through that ^_^. Sorry I haven't updated in a while also. Forgive me?

Don't think I wasn't letting you off the hook…REVIEW! ^_^


	41. Just Like Old Times

Author's Note: Okay, before anyone points it out to me, I'm just gonna say now, the scene between Mark and Maureen is basically the scene that was in my other fic called 'Mend.' I decided to use it because it's an idea that I sort of put aside, and think it would fit well in this story. Sorry I haven't updated in ages. Enjoy, and review!

*Edited* Well, _slightly_ based on it, lol.

"Coming!" Mark called quickly when he heard a knock on the front door. "Just a second!" He fished around in his top dresser drawer for a tie, and sloppily clipped it onto his shirt. Only moments after he glanced at his reflection in the mirror did he decide that the tie was overdoing it, and yanked it off and threw it aside.

"I'm coming!" Mark said breathlessly as he ran to open the door. "H-hi…," he stammered.

"Hi. Mark," Maureen said, shyly as she stepped inside. She had her curly hair up in a bun, and a few tendrils fell out and framed her face, along with a pair of dangly earrings that Mark remembered giving her a few summers ago. She wore a short tight black sleeveless dress, and Mark could faintly smell a trace of floral perfume.

"You look…great," he mumbled, blushing.

"Thanks," she giggled, her cheeks flushing as well. She cocked her head to one side, looking further into the apartment. "Are Roger and Mimi here?"

Mark shook his head. "They're on the roof."

Maureen raised her eyebrows.

"I don't know what they're doing," Mark added, quickly.

Maureen shrugged. "Oh, well. I'll see them tomorrow."

"So you wanna leave now?" Mark asked, grabbing his coat.

"Alright," Maureen said, watching him furtively. "No camera?" she smiled, seeing Mark's video camera perched on the table beside the coat-rack.

Mark blushed and shook his head. "Nope. No camera."

"So…you ready to go?"

Mark nodded and slowly slipped his hand into Maureen's. "Let's go."

***

"Tom? Do we have anymore of that solid gold dog food?" Frankie yelled to Collins from the kitchen.

"No, the kids dug their way through it," Collins called back, from the living room. "And call me Collins."

"So, you're referring to them as 'the kids' now, _Tom_?" Frankie teased, as she came back into the living room.

"Well, that's what they are, aren't they?"

Frankie kissed him, softly. "Don't you want to have kids _without_ fur someday?"

"Some day. But not today," Collins laughed.

As they talked, Pepper and her two puppies lay sprawled at their feet, lazily. They had found out a few weeks after the puppies were born that they had one boy, and one girl. Frankie had named the boy Buddy, and Collins had named the girl Angel, ironically. His small but meaningful tribute to his deceased previous lover.

"What was she like?" Frankie asked Collins, settling onto his lap.

"Who?"

"Angel."

"Angel?" Collins said, surprised.

"Yeah, you know…your…girlfriend," Frankie said slowly, trying to figure out whether to refer to Angel as a girl or a boy.

"She was an amazing person," Collins smiled, relieved by the fact that they were able to talk about Angel calmly and casually. They'd never really brought up the topic of Collins's previous relationship before.

"Do you think I would've liked her?" Frankie yawned, reaching for the blanket they kept on the couch, which was now soggy from Buddy and Angel teething on it.

"Yes. I think you two would've gotten along very well," Collins grinned. "You're into interior designing and planning parties and stuff like that. Angel loved to do that. She loved to design her own outfits. Last Christmas, she…she came up with this incredible Santa Clause outfit. She liked to drum, too. She had this pickle tub she used to carry around with her. I remember she was playing it when we first met. I'd just been mugged- and she was sitting nearby, and she came over to me to see if I was hurt. She looked up at me and said, 'You okay, honey?'" Collins eyes twinkled as he reminisced over his old friend. "She was always looking out to help people."

"She sounds like a good person," Frankie said, softly. "I would've loved to meet her."

"Here-wait, you know what? I have an old videotape stashed somewhere during that phase where Mark had his video camera permanently attached to his hand. There's a short segment, like ten minutes long. It's just her with her drumsticks and the pickle tub." He paused, and looked up at Frankie. "Do you wanna see?"

Frankie smiled. "Okay."

Eagerly, Collins got down on all fours and rustled around a pile of old videotapes next to the T.V set. Finally, after a few seconds, he got back up again.

"I think this is it," he said, popping it into the VCR and sitting back down on the couch with Frankie.

Immediately, an image of Angel appeared on the screen. No costume, no makeup, no wigs. Just Angel in a plain white T-shirt and tight sparkly jeans.

"This is a little number I like to call…'Spazz,' Angel said, in a mock-sexy tone, before erupting into a crazy fury of movement with her drumsticks  and the pickle tub placed between her knees. Angel's masculine side was highlighted clearly, as his muscles bulged as he furiously beat out a rhythm on the drum. Collins thought he heard a girl laughing in the background. It was probably Mimi. Or Maureen.

Finally, Angel set the drumsticks down, heaved a huge sigh, and placed the sticks down on the ground. She grinned. "How do you like that, baby?" she teased, directing her question towards Collins, obviously. She stood up and walked towards Collins, who was off-screen, with her arms outstretched to give him a hug. When her figure was no longer visible, the tape stopped.

Both Collins and Frankie sat in silence for a moment.

"I haven't watched that video in ages," Collins said, finally. "I haven't heard her voice in so long."

Frankie smiled and kissed him on the cheek, gently. "You okay?"

Collins nodded, sadly. "I just miss her."

"I'm sure she's in a better place," Frankie whispered. "And that she isn't suffering anymore. She's drinking strawberry daiquiris and getting her nails manicured and having the time of her life."

Collins grinned. "I hope so."

"I know so."

Collins wrapped his arms around Frankie's shoulder. "You tired?"

"It's eight pm."

"So? I'm an old man. I need my rest."

Frankie laughed. "Whatever you say, grandpa." She pinched his rear and winked at him, before strolling off into the bedroom.

Collins smiled and stared at the now blank TV screen for a few moments.

"You coming?" Frankie called from the bedroom.

Collins nodded and smiled gravely. "I'm coming."

***

"Hey, long time no see," Seb exclaimed, as Mark and Maureen entered the Life Café.

"Hey, Seb," Maureen chirped, giving him a peck on the cheek. "How you doing?"

"I'm good now," he winked, pulling a little golf pencil from behind his ear. "Usual table?"

"I guess so. If that's alright with you," Maureen said, looking at Mark.

Mark nodded. "It's fine."

"Great! Like old times," Seb said, as he lead them to their table.

_Like old times_, Mark echoed in his head as he and Maureen followed Seb to the table.

"Do you guys know what you want?" Seb asked them, after they were seated.

"I'll just have a Caesar salad…I'm trying to keep with my diet," Maureen said, blushing a bit. "Do you know what you want, Marky?"

"What?" Mark said.

"I said do you know what you want?"

"You called me Marky."

Maureen frowned. "I did?"

"Yeah."

Maureen shrugged. "Oops. Déjà vu, I guess."

"I guess," Mark repeated, uneasily. He turned to Seb. "Ummm. I'll have some mineral water…and uh…a burger, I guess. Well done."

"Alright. I'll have it with you in a bit," Seb said, closing his little clipboard as he went to another table.

"So…how've you been?" Maureen asked, pushing a few spilt grains of salt with her finger.

"Since this morning? Fine," Mark said, smiling a bit.

"Still no word from Jan?"

Mark shook his head.

Maureen sighed. "I'm sorry, Mark."

"It's not your fault," Mark mumbled. "I just…feel like things aren't going to be the same between the two of us anymore. I know that we're not the first couple to have a miscarriage…but Jan was really hurt by this. Emotionally. And I can't help but think that maybe things are over between us."

"You shouldn't think like that," Maureen said, softly.

Mark smiled, weakly. "I can't help it."

They sat in an awkward silence for a moment, until Seb returned with their food.

"Thanks," Maureen said, and when he left she began to pick out the pieces of chicken in her salad.

"What are you doing?" Mark asked, watching her. "I told you, I'm trying to watch my figure. I've decided to become a vegetarian. For a few weeks."

"A few weeks?" Mark laughed. "Isn't that like a lifelong decision that you make?"

Maureen shrugged. "It doesn't have to be."

Mark sat back and picked at his hamburger bun. "Do you remember the time we were here after your riot performance, and we terrorized Benny and his father in-law?"

"Are you kidding?" Maureen exclaimed. "I _still_ laugh about that! God, what a prick."

Mark shrugged. "He had a good heart."

"Yeah, made out of stone," Maureen retorted, taking a sip of her water.

Mark laughed. "Let's not talk about Benny. How've you been?"

"Since this morning? Fine," Maureen teased.

Mark laughed again. "Where does the time go?"

"I don't know," Maureen said, shaking her head. "But I do know that this salad tastes like shit without chicken or dressing."

"This burger isn't too hot either," Mark said. "You wanna just…take off?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Seb…check, please?"

"Give him a big tip," Maureen whispered when she saw the disappointed look on Seb's face.

Mark made a face. "Do I have to?"

"I'll chip in too," Maureen giggled, fishing out her imitation snakeskin pink purse.

***

_The desperate look in our eyes, holding onto one another_

_Holding on for our lives, just letting go to discover_

_That love don't need a reason_

_And love don't need a rhyme_

_I'm standing here pleading_

_And you just cover your eyes_

"Are you ever going to do anything more with that song?" Mimi interrupted.

Roger placed his guitar down. "What do you mean?"

"You've been playing those same chords and for days now. Are you ever going to add to the song?"

Roger shrugged. "I don't force these things. I wait for inspiration. Bugger off."

Mimi grinned and gave him the finger. "How's this for inspiration?"

"I'm sorry, but this is supposed to be a pretty song."

"Hey!" Mimi laughed, kicking out at him. 

"Maybe you can sing back-up for the band?" Roger grinned at her.

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Yeah. When pigs fly."

"We could have a little Partridge Family thing going on. Me on guitar, you singing back-up. One of the twins on the drums, the other on the keyboard."

"You have way too much time on your hands," Mimi laughed. "I'm afraid of what you'll do while waiting for these babies to be born already."

"How about we choose names?"

"For the babies?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "No. For the guitar." He caught Mimi's foot before it could collide into his shoulder.

"You're too quick for me," Mimi smiled, zipping up her sweater as it became chillier. "How about Anna for a girl?"

"Anna? Not bad," Roger said, stroking his chin. "What if there's two girls?"

"Anna and…"

"Janis."

"Janis?"

"Yeah. Like Janis Joplin."

Mimi laughed. "Or Cher."

"Or Joy."

"Joy's not bad. I like Joy."

"So Anna is the first runner up for a girl's name, and Joy's the second…now what if there are two boys?"

Mimi groaned. "Trust me, there will _not_ be two boys."

"How do you know?"

"Because I feel it in my gut. Literally. If there were two boys in there, they'd be rolling around and kicking the shit outta me."

Roger snorted. "Bullshit."

"No! Here, feel," she pulled up her sweater and placed his palm flat against her stomach. "Do you feel anything?"

"No."

"My point is proven," Mimi declared.

"Or they could be two really mellow boys."

"There's no such thing."

Roger laughed. "I think you're starting to show, Meems."

Mimi made a face. "I am?"

"Yeah."

"Great. I'm fat."

"You're not fat. You're pregnant."

"Same thing."

"You're beautiful."

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we were deciding on boy names."

"Oh yeah. I like Corey."

"Corey…I like that."

"And the other boy would be…"

"There won't be another boy."

"Jesus Christ, you're stubborn."

Mimi laughed. "I'll bet you anything if anything we'll only have one boy."

"God, look at us. We're sick. We're placing bets on a couple of fetuses." He grinned. "And I hope there _are_ two boys. Just so I can say I told you so."

"That's a pleasure you won't be getting from this womb," Mimi said, patting her stomach with her hand.

Roger laughed. "Okay, okay. Let's just worry about this when the time comes around."

"What time would that be?"

"I dunno. When you're having the kids."

Mimi cracked up. "Yeah, we could name both of them right there in the delivery room. The first words that come out of my mouth…FUCK! And GET IT OUT!!!"

"Fuck Davis Jr.," Roger grinned.

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Never mind. I shouldn't have started." She paused. "Don't they say it's bad to curse in front of your kids? Even before they're born?"

"Uh…I don't know." Roger pushed up Mimi's shirt and whispered, "Mommy did not just say a bad word. You kids sleep well." He kissed her stomach above her belly button. Mimi giggled.

"There, you happy now?"

"Yes," Mimi smiled, leaning against his chest, contently. 

***

"Someone get the door!" Mark yelled from his room as a series of quick knocks were heard from the front door.

Silence. Mimi and Roger were still on the roof.

Mark had seen Maureen to her apartment about half an hour ago, and had then retreated home.

"Fine, I'll get it," Mark grumbled, grabbing his bathrobe.

"Maureen? What happened?" he exclaimed when he opened the door.

She was still wearing the dress she'd worn that evening, and her hair was still up. The only difference was, her mascara was running down her face, and she was crying.

"Joanne's gone."

"What do you mean she's gone?"

"She's just gone," Maureen sniffled, wiping at her streaky cheeks.

"Well, she's done this before, right? You've had little arguments like this before?"

Maureen shook her head and said in a shaky voice, "Not like this time." She shuddered. "This time I don't think she'll be coming back." Her body was racked with shaky sobs, and Mark pulled her against his chest, letting her tears soak into his terrycloth robe.

"She'll come back," he whispered, though he knew even as he said it that it probably wasn't true.

***

Song Credit: 'Rhyme and Reason' by Adam Pascal

Author's Note: Whoooo. That was fun. Review!


	42. Caught in the Act

APRIL 1ST, 1997

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Mark whispered softly, as Maureen cried quietly against his shoulder.

Maureen sniffled and wiped at her noise with her sleeve. "Yes. I would," she said, in a small voice.

"It'll be okay," Mark repeated, resting his chin on the top of her head, gently. "It'll all turn out alright."

Maureen said nothing and squeezed his hand tightly.

Suddenly, Mark found himself kissing the top of her head, and Maureen slowly lifted her head up so that their lips met one another.

_You can't do this_, Mark told himself inside his head. _You can't do this to Jan._ But what about what Jan was doing to _him_? She was shutting him out. She was isolating herself from him. She hadn't returned his calls or even _tried_ to communicate with him for days.

The more Mark thought about this as he and Maureen clung to each other desperately, the less guilty he felt as he felt around for the doorknob to his bedroom and he and Maureen slipped inside.

***

"Mark? Do you want breakfast?" Roger shouted, banging on Mark's bedroom door, obnoxiously. "We got frozen waffles yesterday. Do you want some?"

"Don't wake him up," Mimi hissed, sticking her head out from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head.

Roger waved his hand at her as if to shush her. "Mark, I know you're not asleep. I know you like to lie awake in your bed." He paused. "I'm opening the door." There was no answer. "Okayyy…you asked for it." Roger pushed the door open, revealing a sleeping Mark and Maureen entwined among their bed sheets, and all but smothering each other.

"Holy shit," Roger yelped, slamming the door shut again as Mark and Maureen stirred from the noise.

***

"Was that Roger?" Maureen asked sleepily as she sat up in bed.

Mark rubbed his eyes. "Shit," he moaned. "I forgot to lock the door."

Maureen groaned. "Well, they were bound to find out one way or another."

"I have a feeling this isn't going to be too easy to explain," Mark grumbled as he fished his boxers up off the floor.

***

"What happened?" Mimi asked, alarmed, coming out of the bathroom in a light blue terrycloth robe. "Did you stub your toe again?"

"N-no…," Roger said, slowly. He wanted to open the door again just to make sure he hadn't imagined what he had just saw. But he couldn't very well barge in on them _again_. 

"Why'd you shout, then?" Mimi frowned.

Roger looked at her. "There's, uh…a girl in there."

Mimi raised her eyebrows at him. "You mean Jan?"

Roger shook his head. "No, not Jan."

"Who, then?"

"Morning," Mark said quickly as he bustled out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him before hurrying into the bathroom.

Mimi gave Roger a questioning look. "Who's in there?"

As if on cue, Maureen then emerged from the bedroom, wearing one of Mark's robes, and quickly she hurried into the kitchen, not meeting their eyes.

Mimi' eyes and mouth widened in shock, and she stared at Roger as if to say, _Did__ you just see that_?

Roger laughed when he saw the look on Mimi's face. 

"Rog…that was _Maureen_."

"I know."

"That was…_Maureen_," Mimi said again, a weird smile coming over her face.

Roger nodded again. "I _know_."

Mimi began, hysterically, to laugh.

Roger found himself laughing for some reason as well, and quickly tried to stop. "Shut up, they'll hear us," he hissed, clamping a hand over Mimi's mouth.

"Okay, I'll stop," Mimi giggled, squirming away from him. She took a few seconds to catch her breath. "Why is this funny?"

"I don't know…because…it's Mark and Maureen. They're not exactly the ideal couple."

"I know. I thought when you said there was a girl in Mark's room that he had hired a prostitute or something."

"Mimi!" Roger exclaimed, swatting at her leg with his hand.

"Bad joke. Sorry," she giggled. "And don't hit me." 

They both paused. 

"So…now what do we do?" Mimi asked, looking up at him.

Roger shook his head. "I don't know. I want to ask them what the hell's going on." He paused. "You don't think this is some sort of April Fools joke, do you?"

"No. They didn't look too amused when they came out. In fact they looked kinda pissed."

"They were probably just embarrassed," Roger said. "Speaking of April Fools, I'll let you know now that I no longer have a tolerance for April Fool's jokes since last year." The previous year, Mark, Mimi and Maureen had slid purple dye into Roger's hair gel.

"Okay," Mimi laughed. "I'll go easy on you this time."

Mark finally exited the bathroom just then, and was greeted by Roger and Mimi's questioning eyes.

"What?" he mumbled.

"What do you mean, 'what'? Explain!" Roger demanded, impatiently.

"Maureen came back to the apartment last night, really upset. She was crying. I think Joanne left her for good." He fiddled with the tie on his bathrobe. "So I told her she could stay here…and then one thing led to another and then uh,…you know."

"But what about Jan?" Roger asked.

Mark sighed. "I don't know about Jan anymore. Honestly, I haven't heard from her in a long time."

"So…is this something _permanent_?" Mimi asked him.

"I don't know. I think Maureen and I are both looking for something a bit more in a relationship right now. And ironically…we turned to each other." He squeaked his slippers along the wooden floor. "Anyway, I'm gonna get dressed and walk Maureen back down to her apartment." He glanced at them. "She's still pretty upset about this thing between her and Joanne, so don't mention anything about it, okay?"

The two of them nodded.

"So, uh…how much did you see?" Mark asked Roger, embarrassed.

Roger blushed. "Uh, I don't know…"

"Enough to make him shout obscenities," Mimi laughed.

"I wasn't shouting obscenities," Roger scoffed. "I was just startled."

Mark rolled his eyes. "I get the point. I'm gonna go leave with Maureen now. I'll see you guys in a little bit." He retreated to his bedroom to change.

Roger looked at Mimi. "I don't get it," he said.

Mimi shrugged. "Me neither," she said.

"This is gonna get ugly when he gets in contact with Jan again."

"_If_ he gets in contact with Jan," Mimi said.

Roger sighed. "Well, whatever happens, let's hope for the best."

***

A/N: Sorry that was a tad short. I apologize for the goofyness of Mimi and Roger. I think seeing Daphne had an effect on my writing this chapter because she's weird and has a weird sense of humor and is silly and…yeah. Hope you like, review ;).


	43. We All Fall Down

A/N: Yeah, sorry I haven't updated in a while. I'm a slacked. Oh, and if you want to know the significance of Limbo Elmo (from Maureenthedramaqueen's story), just ask. It's a long story. Enjoy!

"Are you gonna be okay by yourself?" Mark asked Maureen as they neared her apartment.

Maureen nodded, slowly. "I don't think I really have a choice," she smiled, weakly.

Mark chewed on his lip. "What exactly happened that made her go off all of a sudden?"

Maureen was silent for a moment. "Well…last night, when I told her I was going out with you to dinner…she got mad. She said that lately my attention has been centered more on you and everyone else, and I've been ignoring her. I told her it was just dinner, and left. When I got back, she was gone. And so were most of her things."

"I'm sorry," Mark said softly, rubbing her back.

"It's not your fault."

"I feel responsible, though. She left you over a dinner date with me."

"Mark, if it's anyone's fault it's _mine_. I agreed to go with you, and I just didn't really notice right then upset she really was." She sighed. "Until it was too late."

Mark nodded. "Yeah, and I'm still trying to figure out how to bring this all up to Jan. That is, if I ever see her again."

"I'm sorry I've been causing you trouble," Maureen said, quietly.

"It's not your fault, Mo," Mark said, firmly. "It's like you said before. It was my decision to take you to dinner. It was my decision to…spend the night with you. It wasn't like I wasn't willing."

Maureen smiled. "Yeah, well." She started to fiddle with her keys in the lock.

"You sure you'll be alright?" Mark asked.

Maureen nodded. "I'll be fine."

"Okay…but give me a call if you need me, okay?"

Maureen nodded again.

"Promise?"

She laughed, weakly. "Yes. I promise, Mark."

"Okay." He kissed the top of her head. "I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. I'll be right upstairs if you need anything. Bye." He then turned and walked back down the hallway, and Maureen opened the door and slid inside the apartment.

***

"Miss me?" Mark said, as he entered the kitchen, finding Roger and Mimi sitting on the stools at the counter. They both looked at him, uneasily.

"What?" Mark asked, seeing the look on their faces.

"Jan called," Roger said.

Mark was silent. Then, "She did?"

Roger nodded. "About fifteen minutes ago."

Mark groaned. "Just my luck. How did she sound?"

"Well…it's hard to say. She didn't sound particularly cheerful. Her tone was just sort of neutral. There was no emotion in it."

"Fuck," Mark said, softly.

"She wants to see you."

"When?"

"Tomorrow, she said. In the morning. She didn't say a specific time."

Mark began to pace back and forth along the kitchen tiles. 

"I can call her back and tell her you're busy, if you want," Roger said, slowly.

Mark shook his head. "No. I can't just put her off. I'll go."

Roger and Mimi glanced at each other. "Alright," Roger said. "If that's what you want."

Mark nodded. "It is." He walked over to the counter where they were sitting, and retrieved a slightly stale bagel from the paper bag that was between them. He took a bite out of it, and then retreated back into his room, in a robotic sort of way.

"I'm worried about him," Mimi said to Roger, taking a bite out of her bagel, which was slathered with butter.

"He'll be okay," Roger assured her, as he pulled apart his scone. "It's Mark."

***

The next morning, Mark got up around eight, threw on some clothes, brushed his teeth, ran a hand through his hair, and headed down towards the subway, and from there walked to Jan's apartment. He was dreading the moment he would have to bring up him and Maureen's relation with her.

He reached the apartment, and was hesitant for a moment. Then, he knocked on the door.

After a few moments, the door slowly opened, revealing Jan, clad in a light pink bathrobe, her hair tied back in a sloppy ponytail. She looked thinner to Mark, and paler. He picked at his nails, nervously. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," she said, softly. 

They were both silent for a moment.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, and stepped inside the apartment. Without speaking, they both moved to the couch, and slowly sunk into the tanned leather.

"I've been trying to call you for the past few days," Mark said.

"I know. I just couldn't bring myself to talk to you. Let alone anyone. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Mark said, taking her hand, gently. "You've been through a lot."

"Yeah." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "So how've you been."

"Fine…" Mark said, slowly. "What about you?"

Jan smirked. 

"Sorry, that was a dumb question," Mark mumbled.

"No, it wasn't. I've been better."

Mark nodded. "So…what's going to happen to us?"

Jan sighed. "I don't know. My parents want me to go back to Westchester and live with them for a while. I think they're afraid that I'll become suicidal, like April."

"Are you going to?"

Jan was quiet for a moment. "I think so. Yes." She paused. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Mark said. "So, are you trying to say…it's over between us?"

"I don't know," Jan said, quietly. "Ever since…you know…I just have been feeling different. Not just towards you, just about everything. I think that this was almost like a wake-up call for me. You remember my ex, Cary, right?"

Mark nodded and rolled his eyes. 

"Well, I had a hard relationship with him. He used to push me around. But with you, it was completely different. And then when I found out I was pregnant, I thought us having a baby could really make everything truly better…April's suicide, my relationship with Cary." She trailed off. "But then when I lost the baby, it was like I lost hope. I still love you, Mark," she whispered. "I always will. You've been so good to me. Probably more than I should deserve." Mark saw that her eyes were beginning to tear. "I'm just not a stable person right now. I don't want to be a burden on anyone else. I've signed up for therapy, and I'm hoping that once I spend a month or two with my parents, things will pick up again."

"And then…where will that leave us?" Mark asked.

"I don't know, I don't know," Jan murmured, rubbing her head with her hands. "I'm just really confused."

"It's okay," Mark said, softly.

Jan sniffed. "Well. Enough about my problems. How have you been."

"Well…" Then he decided. He had to tell her. He needed to be honest with her.

"Jan, there's something I have to tell you. Two nights ago, Joanne left Maureen. And Maureen's pretty sure that she's not coming back. She was really upset, and I took her to dinner earlier. And it was just like old times, back when we were dating."

"Did you sleep with her?" Jan interrupted.

Mark paused for a moment, considering leaving that part out, but then he nodded.

Jan smiled, weakly. "It figures. I always thought that you two made a great couple."

"You're not mad?" Mark asked, confused.

"No. I can't say I blame you for going to someone else. I've sort of isolated myself from everyone else, lately." She sighed. "I guess that some things are just meant to be, and others just aren't." She smiled. "We'll keep I touch, though?"

"Yes, of course," Mark said quickly, feeling his heart twist.

Jan gave him a teary smile. "That's all I need to know. That you'd still be here for me. I love you, Mark."

"I love you too," Mark said, softly.

And they sat like that for a while, sitting there and hugging each other, silently.

***

"I have arrived," Daisha announced, entering the loft and walking into the living room, plopping down on Mimi's lap."

"_Ow_. The baby, chica, the baby."

"Oooh, shit, sorry," Daisha said quickly, jumping up. "Sorry Roger," she grinned sheepishly.

Roger laughed. "Hey, I'm not the one carrying two extra life forms."

Mimi ignored him. "Where's Isabella?"

"I don't know."

Mimi raised her eyebrows. "How'd you get here, then?"

Daisha grinned and reached for something in the pocket of her jeans, and dropped it onto Mimi's lap.

"You got your license!" Mimi exclaimed, looking at it.

Daisha grinned, triumphantly. "Yup. You and Joanne's lessons paid off after all."

"Did Mama buy you a car?" Mimi asked, confused.

"No. I borrowed the Honda from her. She said she trusts me."

"Her memory must be going," Mimi laughed, looking over the slip of plastic.

Daisha stuck out her tongue. "So how are my nieces?"

"Nephews," Roger interrupted.

Mimi grinned at Daisha. "Roger thinks he's getting two boys."

Daisha made a face. "Two boys? Ech."

"You're trying to fuck with the laws of nature," Mimi told Roger. "Just look at my family. Three girls. It's only natural to have two more."

"Now that's just fucked logic, right there," Roger said. "I think that the law of nature is thinking that he gave your mother one too many girls, so now he'll try and make it up by giving us too boys."

"You guys really need to get an ultrasound," Daisha laughed.

Mimi grinned. "Only a few more weeks."

"Can't they just, like, induce later so we can revel over the fact that they're both going to be boys?"

Mimi stared at him. "If you want them to be born five months premature, _sure_."

"Premature, schremature," Roger yawned.

"I was born premature."

"You were?"

"Yeah. By three months. The doctors didn't expect me to live, but I did."

"Wow," Roger said. Mimi had had way too many near-death experiences. "Is that why you're a midget?"

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

Roger laughed. 

Mimi chucked a pillow at his head. "Kiss my ass. I'm not a midget. I'm five two."

"Yeah, with heels," Roger giggled.

Mimi stomped her bare foot on the floor. "You do _not_ insult a pregnant woman, Roger. That's inhumane."

Roger grinned, sheepishly. "Sorry." He walked over to the couch to try to apologize, and when he did Mimi pushed her foot into his stomach, causing him to fall over.

"I told you not to mess with a pregnant woman," she said, as Daisha laughed.

"Jesus Christ, Mimi, you don't kick someone in the stomach. You want to send me to the hospital?"

"Sorry," she giggled.

"You don't look sorry," he said, pulling her arm so that she landed on the floor beside him.

"Fuck. Ow. My ass."

"Take it like a man," he told her.

"I've never seen a pregnant man before, have you?"

Roger sighed, standing to his feet and reaching out a hand to help her off the floor. "Are you going to use that fact against me for everything?"

"Not _everything_," Mimi grinned, wrapping his arms around her.

Daisha shook her head. "And you guys are going to be parents."

A/N: Wahoo. That was fun. Review!!!!!!! :-D


	44. Drown Your Sorrows Down

"Harvey Firestein called. He wants his dress back," Roger said to Maureen as she entered the room.

She frowned. "Fuck you. It's a nightgown."

"What's happening?" Mark called as he entered the living room a few steps behind Maureen.

"Nothing, Marky," she smiled, wrapped her arms lightly around his neck. "Roger was just making fun of my nightgown."

Mark looked at Roger. "Oh?"

"He said it looked like something Harvey Firestein would wear," Maureen said, grinning.

"Who?" Mark said, confused.

"You know, the guy who plays the mom in the movie 'Hairspray."

Mark was silent for a moment. "That was a guy?"

"Don't tell me you seriously thought that that was a girl," Roger laughed. "Not with that hoarse voice."

Mark frowned. "Hey, I figured she smoked or something."

Maureen stifled a giggle.

"Don't you laugh at me now too," Mark pretended to complain, tugging on her arm.

"I'm laughing _with_ you, Mark," Maureen grinned.

Mark rolled his eyes. "Sure. Hey Rog, where's Mimi?"

"In the bedroom. I think she's getting dressed."

"I'll see if she's coming," Maureen offered, walking over to Roger and Mimi's bedroom door and knocking quietly.

"Come in," Mimi called from the room.

Maureen opened the door, and found Mimi zipping up her skirt.

"Hey," Mimi greeted, tugging the skirt down so her now obviously pregnant belly held over the side. "This isn't even mine. It's Isabella's. From back when she was in college," she said, giving Maureen a pained look. She groaned. "I feel so fat."

"Aw, it won't be so bad. Just think, a few months now all of this'll be worth it."

"Yeah, but four more months can't be any farther away," Mimi scoffed, plopping down dramatically on the bed.

"It'll get better," Maureen said, walking over to hug her. "So, besides the weight gain…how've you been?"

"Well, I have to pee all the time, I throw up at night, I have indigestion, and I've started looking at maternity catalogues," Mimi grumbled, still self-conscience about her growing abdomen, she wrapped her arms around her stomach.

"Aw, cheer up," Maureen said, poking her arm. "That's just what comes with being pregnant. Just think of your mom. She had three kids."

"Yeah, she must've been fuckin' nuts," Mimi said, rolling over onto her side and clutching a pillow.

Maureen slid off the bed and sat Indian-style on the newly carpeted floor. "I've been thinking of having a baby of my own."

Mimi looked up from over her pillow. "You?"

Maureen nodded and giggled, childishly. "Yup."

"You mean…you and Mark?"

"No, me and that dresser," Maureen said, pointing.

Mimi grinned. "That's great, Mo! You'd make an awesome mom!"

Maureen sat on her hands and rocked back and forth slowly. "Yeah," she sighed, dreamily. "I don't know about Mark, though. I mean I'd love to have his son. Or daughter," she added. "But I just don't know if we're ready."

Mimi climbed down from the bed and came over to Maureen. "Eventually, you will be," she said.

There was a knock at the door.

"Meems?"

"Come in," Mimi said, and Roger entered the room, holding a margarita in his hand.

"What's the occasion?" Mimi said, looking at his drink.

Roger shrugged. "Do you need an occasion to drink?"

Mimi shook her head. "No…"

"What were you guys talking about?" he asked, taking a sip.

"Well, something I haven't had a chance to tell you…" she gave him a nervous look. "We're having triplets."

Roger began to cough, startled, and Maureen laughed.

"You're not serious, are you?" he croaked weakly.

Mimi giggled. "Late April Fool's day joke. Sorry."

"Don't do that," he said, shaking the glass at her. "You scared me to death."

"I can't help it, baby," Mimi grinned, clinging to his arm. "You're too easy to fool."

"No I'm not," Roger mumbled, placing her waist.

"Are you guys ready?" Mark called from the other room.

"Yes," Roger called back, picking both his and Mimi's coats up off from the bed.

"Well, we've got to hurry. I've got reservations."

"How did he get reservations again?" Roger asked Maureen, as the three of them started for the door.

Maureen shrugged. "Some weird connection with the guy who owns the place. I think he featured the restaurant in one of his independent films, or something. This is his way of paying him back."

"Not bad," Roger said, approving. He downed the Margarita and placed it gently on the counter. "Let's go," he said, cheerfully.

"Isn't that your third glass?" Maureen asked Roger, who had just asked for a refill for his beer.

Roger frowned. "I can't remember."

Mimi rolled her eyes and patted his hand. "Good. You'll be nice and drunk the rest of the night."

"Rog, you're wearing jeans," Mark suddenly noticed.

Roger looked down. "Yeah. So?"

"So, this place is real fancy. I think there's a dress code."

"Well so_rry_, no one told me ahead of time Roger said, placing his glass down for a moment. "I don't think I own a tie or suit or anything anyway."

"Yes you do," Mark said. "The one you wore to…" he stopped himself. He was about to add, _The__ one you wore to April's funeral_, but caught himself right before the words left his mouth.

"I don't remember wearing one," Roger shrugged, picking his drink back up.

Maureen shrugged, "I think he looks fine, Mark. Besides, it's not like anyone's gonna really be looking down there."

"Except for Mimi," Roger cut in, grinning.

Mimi rolled her eyes. "Are you drunk?"

Roger rubbed his temples. "Don't think so."

Mimi sighed and toyed with the rim of her water glass.

A few moments later, the waiter came with their food.

"Bout time," Roger said, banging his palm on the table as he placed the food down on the table. "My girlfriend is pregnant," Roger announced to the waiter.

_"Roger,"_ Mimi hissed, turning red.

"Well, she is."

"Is that so," the waiter smiled.

"Yeah. She's having twins. That's why she's so huge. We can come back here again and you can see. Maybe you can have one of them," he laughed, and hiccupped.

The waiter gave him a weird look and picked up the empty tray, reporting back to the kitchen.

"Asshole," Mimi whispered, her cheeks flushed.

Mark and Maureen glanced at each other, uneasily.

"Hey, what's eating you two?" Roger said.

Mark shook his head. "Nothing."

"You should shoot some more movies, Mark. This place is pretty spiffy."

"Well, I haven't really had time," Mark mumbled. He hated when Roger got drunk as much as Mimi did.

"Hey, there," Roger said to the waiter as he came to refill Mimi's glass.

The waiter gave him a puzzled look. "Hi."

"That's my girlfriend," he said, pointing to Mimi.

The waiter nodded at him, slowly.

"I had another girlfriend once. Her sister," he said, pointing to Maureen. "No, wait…that was…Jan. Yeah. I dated her sister. She's dead now. She killed herself. Then she came along," he grinned, gesturing towards Mimi. "Not long after she died. You know, she used to work at the Cat Scratch Club."

The waiter was silent.

"You know, the place where those girls take off their clothes for money?"

There was a loud _THUMP!,_ and Mark and Maureen looked up to see Mimi had balled up her napkin and thrown it onto the table. She quickly began to get up.

"Hey, where you going?" Roger asked, confused. "Don't be the party pooper."

"Fuck you," she hissed, grabbing her coat and storming out of the restaurant.

Roger seemed to sober up a bit. "Meems?" he said, coughing.

Mark looked at him with disgust. "I think we'll take a check," he said to the waiter, quietly.


	45. Empty Apologies

Mark quickly paid for the shortened dinner, and helped Maureen with her coat.

"I fucked up, didn't I," Roger grumbled.

Mark rolled his eyes. "You could say that."

The three of them wandered outside. Mimi was not outside.

"Excuse me," Mark asked one of the valet parkers. "Did you happen to see a young woman storm out here? She's kinda short…curly hair…"

"Is she pregnant?"

Mark nodded, slowly.

He pointed. "Yeah, she stomped off that way a little while ago. I don't think she was intending to wait for anybody."

Mark glared at Roger, menacingly. "Thanks."

"Hey, no problem."

"I think she decided to go home by herself," Mark told Maureen and Roger as he walked back over. "And I don't blame her."

"She didn't have to get so defensive," Roger said, with a bit of a slur in his voice.

"Yeah, Rog, you only told a complete stranger some _very_ personal information," Mark snapped. He took Maureen's hand. "C'mon," he said. "Let's see if we can't catch up to her."

Mimi entered the loft a few minutes after the others arrived, throwing down her purse in frustration.

"Mimi," Roger said, cautiously as she rushed by him.

"Fuck off," she snapped, pushing her way past him.

Mark winced, from the other side of the room. _Ouch_.

"Are you okay, honey?" Maureen asked Mimi, putting her hands on her shoulder.

"Well considering I got fucking mugged on the way over here, _no_," Mimi growled, through clenched teeth.

Mark lifted up his head. "_What?"_

"What happened?" Maureen exclaimed.

"To be brief, he cornered me, threatened me with his knife and told me if I didn't hand over my wallet, I'd be sorry."

"Jesus," Maureen breathed. "How much did he take?"

"I don't know. Probably about fifty dollars."

"He didn't get your ring, did he?"

"No," Mimi said coldly, looking at Roger. "He was too fucked up to noticed it."

"Well that wouldn't have happened if you'd of walked with us," Roger mumbled.

"Oh, so I see, it's my fault that I decided to leave the restaurant in a hurry because you're an asshole!" she shouted at him.

"You didn't have to leave," he yelled back at her.

Mimi snorted. "Well I don't think anyone else would want to be around when you're telling personal stories to total strangers."

"Well maybe if you didn't used to be such a whore, I wouldn't have any 'personal' stories to tell," Roger shouted.

Everyone was silent.

"Meems, don't listen to him, he's drunk," Maureen pleaded with Mimi, who was staring at Roger, infuriated.

"You're such a prick," Mimi hissed at him. "Whenever you have a problem you just need to drink it away, don't you? And where does it ever get you?"

Roger refused to meet her eye. "You're exaggerating," he said, lamely.

"Everything's an exaggeration for you, Roger. I don't even think you know what a jerk you are sometimes."

"Can't a guy drink every now and then?" he snapped.

Mimi stomped her foot, startling Maureen and Mark. "Don't you get it? That's _not_ the _point_. You're so immature sometimes."

"Better to be immature than a bitch," he said, regretting the words as soon as he uttered them.

Furious, Mimi grabbed one of Mark's books off the couch and chucked it at Roger's head, who quickly ducked, allowing the book to bang into the wall.

"I don't need to deal with this," Mimi said, tears teasing the corners of her eyes. She tugged her ring off her finger and let it drop to the floor. "There. Do what you want with it," she sniffed. She turned to Maureen. "Can I stay at your place tonight?" she whispered .

Maureen closed her mouth, which was gaped open with shock. "I…yes…I guess so," she said, slowly.

"Can we go then? _Now_?" Mimi asked, through clenched teeth.

Maureen sighed, and looked at Mark.

"It's okay," he said, quietly.

Maureen shot Roger a dirty look, and put her arm around Mimi, and the two of them slowly retreated down the stairs to Maureen's apartment, and the door closed with a slam.

As soon as the two reached Maureen's apartment, Mimi broke down when they got to the doorway and began to cry.

"Oh, honey, it's okay," Maureen hugged her as she sniffled into her shoulder. "This'll all blow over soon."

"No it won't," Mimi whispered, hot tears filling up her eyes.

"Yes it will," Maureen insisted. "I know you two. You fight all the time, and then you make up."

Mini sniffled. "Not as bad as this. He called me a whore to my face for no reason at all."

"He's just frustrated," Maureen said, softly. "He doesn't like to be wrong."

Mimi shuddered, still crying, but said nothing.

"Here, come on inside," Maureen said, opening the door. "Do you want to use the shower or anything?"

"No. I just want to go to sleep," Mimi whispered. "Can I use the couch?"

"Of course. Let me get a blanket," she said, rushing over to the pantry and returning with a quilt. "Here. Angel gave this to me when I hosted that picnic in Washington Park," she said, giving Mimi a small smile.

Mimi grasped the quilt, looking at the magenta and purple pattern. Very Angel.

"You think she'd want to see you two so upset and fighting?" Maureen asked, rubbing her back.

Mimi wiped at her eyes and shook her head. "No," she murmured, truthfully.

"If you need anymore blankets or pillows, just let me know…"

"Thank you. This is fine," Mimi said, retreating to the couch.

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning, honey," Maureen said, softly. "You'll see. Everything will be fine."

"Yeah," Mimi said uncertainly, tugging at the quilt.

"Why did you do that?" Mark said to Roger once Mimi and Maureen had left.

"Do what," Roger mumbled, his gaze fixated on the ring Mimi had thrown on the floor.

"You _know_ what. Go off at her when she had a right to be angry at you."

Roger sighed and tugged at his hair. "I don't know. I can't think straight."

"No shit," Mark snapped. "And what the fuck did you think you were doing, bringing up Jan during dinner with the waiter? Did you not thinking it would fucking make Maureen uncomfortable? And not only was Mimi upset about you talking about her old job at the club, but how do you think _she_ felt, when  you brought up April like that? You talked as if she was only a replacement for April when she died."

Roger looked at him. "Did it really sound like that?" he asked, weakly.

"_Yes_. It did," Mark said, shaking his head. "And why were you drinking like that anyway?"

"I don't know" Roger grumbled. "I'm just…frustrated, I guess. With everything. The wedding…the babies. I just fucked everything up." He chewed his lip and looked at the ring on the ground. He bent down and picked it up, sliding it into his pocket. "And I think I fucked this up permanently."

"You'll make up with her," Mark said, with little comfort.

"Mark," Roger said. "I'm sorry."

Mark sighed. "I don't think I'm the one who needs to hear it."

Author's Note: Reviews are almost as fun as Daphne whispering controversial things into my ear ;)


	46. A Second Proposal

Roger woke up the next morning to find himself in the same clothes that he'd worn the night before, lying on the floor. He'd crashed on the couch and had fallen out of bed. Groaning, he climbed back up onto the couch, his head pounding.

"Mimi?" he called out. Then he remembered the events of the previous night. He grimaced and tried to tense up the crick in his neck. He slid his hand into his pocket, touching the ring that Mimi had purposely thrown onto the floor. That had hurt.

He wanted to go downstairs to Maureen's apartment and try and apologize. But what the hell was he supposed to say?

He sighed. He got up and headed for the door. He needed to get some fresh air.

Roger walked past Washington Square Park. It was still pretty early, only a little after five, and there were a couple of kids skating off some homemade ramps and some half-asleep dog owners looking after their dogs in the dog run. He'd always wanted a dog as a kid.

He'd been in this exact same spot with Mimi not even a month ago. Lately she'd been too self-conscious of her growing stomach to go to too many public places.

He saw a large lump of baggy clothing lying on a tree trunk, and he realized it was a person, fast asleep. _Hey, that's New York_, Roger thought to himself, sarcastically.

"Hey mistah. You gotta dolla?" a seemingly homeless woman approached him, shaking a coffee at him.

"Yeah," Roger said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a dollar from his pocket, and dropping it into the woman's cup.

"Bless you."

"No problem," Roger said, and watched her disappear in the other direction. More people were beginning to populate the park. The vendors were beginning to open up their tables and stalk people in the crowd, trying to sell them their latest product.

Roger bought a cup of coffee and watched for a little bit, and then finally he got up and headed on home.

"Hi, Mark," Maureen greeted Mark happily, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Hey," he smiled, returning the hug. "How've you been?"

"Fine. Just got up about an hour ago."

"How's Mimi?"

"Poor thing, she's still asleep, I think," Maureen said, sadly. "Is Roger upstairs?"

"Actually, I don't know where he is. He was gone when I woke up. I figured he went to take a walk or something, if not come down here."

"Yeah, I don't think Mimi's ready to talk to him yet," Maureen sighed.

"I could understand that," Mark said. "Did you have breakfast yet?"

Maureen shook her head.

"You wanna go grab something to eat?"

"Yeah, sure…what about Mimi though?"

Mark scratched the back of his neck. "Do you think we could just leave her a note or something? We won't be gone that long."

"I guess so," Maureen said, grabbing a slip of paper, and Mark handed her a pen.

_Meems__,_

_Went out to get a bite to eat with Mark.__ Be back later. Hope you're feeling better_

_-Mo_

Maureen left the note where Mimi would see it when she woke up, and then returned to Mark, and the two of them left quietly, being sure not to wake her up.

Mimi awoke about an hour later. She rose up and wandered into the bathroom to fix her hair, and then found Maureen's note on the bathroom door. So much for breakfast. She could really use some low fat ice cream and some olives right now. She suddenly felt a jolt from inside her and gasped, startled. "Jesus Christ, guys," she said, patting her stomach. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

She found a carton of strawberry yogurt in Maureen's refrigerator and substituted the olives with a cucumber, and later wandered up the stairs to The Loft, which she also felt empty.

Where was Roger? She wondered. She walked passed the vacant fender, and strummed it gently with her fingers. Then it hit her that she wasn't wearing her engagement ring, and the reality of last night came to her.

"Damnnit," she sniffed. She tried to look for the ring where she'd dropped it, but failed in trying to find it. Hopefully Roger or Mark had picked it up. Had she been too hard on Roger? He _had_ been drunk. She sighed. Why was it so hard to stay mad at him for more than twenty four hours?

_Because you love him_, she said to herself. _And you know he loves you too_.

"Is anyone home?" Roger called, cautiously as he stepped inside The Loft. There was no answer.

"Mark?"

Silence.

Roger shrugged and wandered up to the roof, where he found Mimi, huddled in a blanket and gazing at the skyline.

He walked over to her slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder, gently.

Mimi yelped in surprise, nearly causing Roger to fall over. "Jesus, you could've warned me," Mimi mumbled, coughing.

Roger frowned. "Are you sick?"

"Allergies."

"Oh." Roger was silent, as was Mimi. She folded her arms out in front of her and continued to stare off into space.

"Meems, I'm sorry about last night," he said, softly. "You're right, I was an asshole. I know I said some shitty things, and I'm sorry for that. And I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when you got mugged."

"I don't give a shit about that. I wasn't upset about that, I was upset about the things you were saying to our waiter. And then the things you said in the loft," she said, coldly.

Roger sighed. "I know. Could you forgive me?"

"I don't know if I'm ready to," she mumbled. "I can't just forgive you out of the blue. The things you said hurt, Roger."

"I'm sorry," Roger said, helplessly. "I've just been stressed out about lots of things, lately. The babies, the wedding…"

"I was thinking about that…"

Roger looked up.

"That maybe we should delay the wedding by a bit…and not just because of this…just getting ready for the babies is stressful enough. I think we should delay our wedding until after they're born."

"I'm fine with that," Roger said, slowly. 'So…that means you still want to get married, right?"

Mimi couldn't help but smile. "Yeah," she admitted. "I never can stay mad at you. I don't know why."

"Because you love me?" Roger grinned, obnoxiously.

Mimi smiled at him. "Yeah. I do."

"Would you accept this again, then?" Roger asked, fishing the ring out of his pocket and taking her hand.

"Oh, God I thought it was lost," Mimi exclaimed.

"Will you marry me, Mimi Marquez?" Roger teased, sliding the ring back on her finger.

Mimi grinned. "Yes," she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I felt one of the babies kick this morning," she whispered into his ear.

Roger looked surprised. "You did?"

Mimi nodded. "Uh huh. It scared the crap out of me."

Roger laughed. "I can imagine. They're not doing it now, are they?"

"Feel for yourself," Mimi smiled, bringing his hand to her stomach.

"Nope, nothing. Wait…I feel _something_. I don't think it's a baby, though. Just gas."

Mimi smiled and shook her finger at him. "Do not provoke me."

"Sorry. God they must be dying to come out already."

"_I'm_ dying for them to come out already," Mimi groaned, and Roger laughed and kissed her.

"Well," Mark said, as he and Maureen entered the loft, hearing the murmur of both Mimi and Roger's voices from the roof above. "I think it's safe to assume that they're talking again."

Maureen laughed. "Psychic, are ya? That was fast."

"Come on, those two couldn't stay mad at each other for over a week," Mark grinned.

"What about us?"

"Well…give or take a month or two," he laughed.

Author's Note: Sonogram's up next :-D. Or ultrasound, or w/e it's called. I'll figure it out. After that, I'm gonna be away for the summer. I think it's safer for me not to continue my story during the summer, since certain things in the story are becoming true…hehehe…review!


	47. Anticipation

Author's Note: Okay. Not saying any names here…but please stop with the comments about the fact that many of the characters have AIDS. No offense, but NO KIDDING, they have AIDS! Yes, AZT is supposed to be taken every 3 hours or whatever, but that DOES NOT mean that I have to include every single freaking detail, do I? Asking to include every time a character takes his or her AZT is simply ridiculous. I think those of you with common sense can just infer on your own that it is being done throughout the story. Thanks for the concern…but just give it a rest. That being said, enjoy this chapter ;).

"Mimi Marquez?" a petite blonde nurse called, poking her head into the waiting room.

Roger squeezed Mimi's hand. "You ready for this?"

"Yep. It's not or never," Mimi replied, clutching his hand. They were moments away from determining the sex of the babies. Although Mark and Maureen, and Collins and Frankie had offered to accompany them, Mimi and Roger had decided this was something they wanted to do on their own.

"Follow me," the nurse smiled at the two of them, noting the anxious looks on their faces. "Just right in here," she instructed, leading them into a small room, where a relatively large screen hooked up for the Ultrasonographer, and a metal examination table.

"The other nurses gave me your information, and are giving it to Doctor Bomback. He should be in shortly," the nurse assured Roger, as Mimi scooted onto the table, and left.

Roger turned back to Mimi and gave her a nervous grin. She smiled back at him.

He walked over to the counter and picked up a stethoscope and placed it around his neck, to get a reaction out of her.

Mimi giggled. "You're going to get in trouble."

"I am a certified doctor," Roger insisted, placing the stethoscope on Mimi's shoulder.

"That goes on your chest, Roger," Mimi laughed.

"Oops," Roger said, removing it.

The door handle began to turn, and Roger quickly tossed the stethoscope back onto the counter, and quickly sat back down.

"Hello, Miss Marquez. Mr. Davis," the doctor greeted, acknowledging the both of them. "How are you both?"

"Nervous," Mimi admitted.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with that. In a few moments this will all be over. You haven't gone to the bathroom recently, have you?"

Mimi shook her head. "They told us not to before coming."

Dr. Bomback nodded. "And are you planning on having a trans-abdominal ultrasound or a vaginal ultrasound?"

"Abdominal," Mimi said, quickly.

"Alright," the doctor said, washing his hands and sliding on a pair of gloves. "You ready?"

Mimi motioned for Roger to come closer, and he did, and she clutched his hand tightly. "Yes," she whispered.

"Alright. I'm going to need you to pull your shirt up so I can place the conducting gel on your abdomen," he said. "Just so the sound waves can be easier to read."

Mimi rolled up her shirt, exposing her large belly.

"This may feel a bit chilly," Dr. Bomback apologized, spreading the gel onto her stomach.

Mimi made a face and clutched Roger's wrist tightly. "Jesus Christ, that's cold," she whispered.

Roger laughed and rubbed her back, gently.

The doctor switched on the screen and picked up the ultrasound probe. He placed it on Mimi's belly, and with the other hand rolled the screen closer so that they could see what was going on. After a few minutes, they were clearly able to see both of their unborn children.

"Is that them?" Roger asked, quietly.

"That's them," Dr. Bomback answered, putting the probe at a different angle.

"I can't believe it," Mimi whispered to Roger, as they stared at the screen.

"How do you know whether they're boys or girls?" Roger asked the doctor.

"Well, by this time, the male's genitals would be developed to the point where we could tell it is indeed a male…and if we can't see that, then we assume that the baby is a girl. Keep in mind though, these tests are not always accurate."

Roger nodded and looked back up at the babies.

"Do you mind holding this down for a second?" he asked Roger, handing him the probe.

Roger took the probe and pressed it gently against Mimi's stomach. She was biting her lip, nervously, and trying to keep from squirming around.

Dr. Bomback leaned forward and squinted at the screen. "Well, neither of them are in positions where their legs are crossed, so it shouldn't be too hard to determine the sexes," he said. "They're both in considerably normal positions. This one," he said, pointing with one hand, "Is most likely male."

"Score," Roger grinned at Mimi.

"Are you sure?" Mimi asked the doctor.

He pointed with his finger, "You see that right there?"

Mimi leaned forward slightly. "Ooh yeah, that's a boy," she said, sheepishly.

"And this one over here I believe is female," the doctor told them, taking control of the probe again.

Roger turned to Mimi excitedly. "We've got a boy _and_ a girl."

"I guess we were both right," Mimi giggled.

"I'm going to save this image for further examination," Dr. Bomback said. "We should be able to give you the full report by tomorrow."

"Alright," Mimi said.

He saved the image on the screen, and then leaned forward to dim the image. "You two ready to say goodbye for now?"

"Yeah. Bye baby," Mimi grinned, looking at one of the babies. "Bye baby," she said to the other one.

"See you in a few months," Roger added, kissing Mimi on the cheek.

Dr. Bomback smiled and handed Mimi a paper towel to wipe off the gel.

"The nurse gave me all your information. You should be getting a call sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay. Thank you," Roger said.

"You ready to go, babe?" Mimi asked Roger, as she headed out the door.

Roger nodded. "One second." Once Mimi was outside the door, Roger asked the doctor, "Is there anyway to know whether or not they'll be HIV positive before they're born?"

The doctor shook his head. "Honestly, we'll be able to know only after they're born. They're a fifty-fifty chance that they will be, though."

Roger sighed. "Alright," he said. "Thank you."

Dr. Bomback smiled. "See you in a few weeks."

"Well, that was fun," Roger said to Mimi as they headed out to the parking lot. Frankie had allowed them to borrow her car.

"Yeah, it was," Mimi smiled. "God, Roger, we're having a boy _and_ a girl," she said, excitedly.

"I know," he smiled, hugging her gently.

"I can't believe it," she breathed. "My mother's going to flip. She wants a granddaughter so badly. Now she'll be able to have both. When are you going to tell your parents?"

"Well…I figured I'd call them and tell them," Roger said, slowly. "We don't talk often. Not since my parents divorced."

"They're gonna be at the wedding though, right?"

"Yeah, they will," Roger said.

"I want to meet them," Mimi declared.

Roger stared at her. "Why?"

"Well, they're going to be my mother and father in law. I think I have a right to meet them," she said. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No," Roger said, slowly. "They're just…I don't know. They're really uptight and stiff. They were always overprotective of me when I was a kid."

Mimi stood on her toes to kiss him on the lips. "Well, you're not a kid anymore. You're an adult. You can make your own decisions."

Roger smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I think I'll call them tonight," he said, turning the keys in the ignition.

"Okay," Mimi said, leaning back in her seat. "Thank you."

Roger smiled to himself as he pulled out of the parking lot. _A boy and a girl_, he thought to himself, happily. _Who would've thought?_

Author's Note: God, I've been waiting FOREVER to write that chapter, haha. Be sure you all watch the Tony's this Sun.! Keep yer dedos crossed for Daphne! And Idina, if you're a Wicked girl, hehe. And just to clarify what I said before…I'm going to be in camp for about two months, starting around the end of June, and I have finals this week, so I don't know if I'll be able to update that much until then, but never fear, I am NOT abandoning this story. Anyway, next chapter Roger calls his parents and tells them the news, and the two of them go on a little road trip to meet the Davis clan. Hope you liked this chapter, & review!!!!!!!!


	48. All Relative

Author's Note: My story is the perfect cure for your anal retention.

"Mama? It's me, Mimi."

"Mimi, Chica! How did the doctor go? Bien?"

Mimi grinned and cradled the phone closer to her head. "Yes, it went well, Mama. We found out what we're having."

"You sound like you're talking about dinner or something," Roger said with a mouthful of toothpaste as he walked into the bedroom, toothbrush in hand.

Mimi shushed him with her finger, as she struggled to listen. "Si, Mama. A boy, _and_ a girl."

"Both! Oh, mija. I'm so happy for you." Conchita sighed. "I can't believe you're having your own children now. Just yesterday I was first pregnant with Isabella…"

"I know, Mama," Mimi laughed. "It was only yesterday."

"Exactamente. Are you two doing anything special?"

"Well, we were thinking of going up to visit Roger's parents," Mimi said, twirling the phone cord subconsciously.

"That sounds very nice. You be sure to keep in good shape for my grandchildren, ¿Usted oye? You start eating healthier now."

"Thanks, Mama. I'll talk to you later?"

"Of course."

"Okay. Tell Daisha I said hello."

"Alright. Take care, chica."

"Adios."

Mimi hung up the phone and looked up at Roger, who had just come out of the bathroom. "Your turn."

"What?"

"You call your parents now," she said, handing him the phone.

Roger made a face. "_Now_?"

"It's now or never," Mimi said, waggling the phone in front of his face.

Roger groaned and took the phone from her, flopping down onto the bed. "I'll be damned if I still know the number," he mumbled, as he dialed. The phone began to ring, and to his disappointment, someone picked up rather than letting the answering machine take it.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Is this Roger?"

"Yeah, Mom, it's me."

"Oh. Hi! I haven't heard from you in a while. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. How's dad?"

"Well, you know him. He took Rachel to the movies the other day. He just got a new job down at the factory. You know he moved into a different apartment, right?"

"Yeah, you told me."

"So…how are you and your wife to be?" Roger heard a teasing tone in his mother's voice.

"Fine," Roger said, hiding a smile. "Actually, that's part of the reason why I called. I've met Mimi's family and everything…and she's never met you guys, and seeing as she's going to be your daughter in-law in a couple of months…I wanted to know if you'd mind us coming up there for the weekend, maybe?"

"Oh…I suppose so. Your room's still the way you left it. We have that old cot that the nanny used to sleep on in the basement. Your father knows how to set those things up…you're talking about this weekend?"

"Yup. Day after tomorrow," Roger said. "Is that okay?"

"Of course it is. Rachel's going to be at a friend's on Saturday, but she'll be back Sunday. And dad can stop by too."

"Alright. Sounds good," Roger said.

"So you two thinking of starting a family yet?" Roger's mother teased.

Roger winced. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that."

"About what?"

"Well…I haven't told you this…well…Mimi's pregnant."

Mimi stared at Roger and mouthed, _You never told them?!_

Roger's mother faltered. "That's…great, honey…did you just find out?"

"Well, no…we actually got back from having the ultrasound a little while ago."

"So you're having children before you get married?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, mom. It wasn't exactly planned out like that…it just happened. But it's all working out."

"Alright," she said, slowly. "I don't know what you're father will think of this…you're still free to come, of course. What time should we expect you?"

"Is two thirty okay?"

"Can you come at three?"

"No problem."

"Right. I'll see you soon, hon."

"Bye, mom," Roger said, hanging up the phone.

"You didn't tell them?" Mimi asked, frowning.

"I…was going to…I didn't really know how to bring it up," Roger said, sheepishly.

"Well, you're a little late to tell them," Mimi said, quietly.

Roger gently pulled her towards him. "I know, baby. My parents just…aren't the best at accepting certain things. It's hard, you know?"

"I guess so," Mimi answered, softly.

"Your mom's understanding. My parents are different. They're uptight."

"I understand. I guess," Mimi said. "Are we still going to meet them?"

Roger nodded. "Yeah. Day after tomorrow."

Mimi smiled. "Okay. Thank you."

"My pleasure," Roger joked.

Mimi made a face.

"What's wrong?"

"They're starting to use me as their personal punching bag," she groaned.

Roger winced. "I'm sorry, baby."

"We don't have anymore Advil, do we?"

"I don't think so. We can get some in the morning," he said, gently rubbing her belly.

Mimi sighed. "Okay."

"You'll be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Good," Roger said, with forced enthusiasm, "Because we've got some packing to do tomorrow."

"Is this it?" Mimi asked, sticking her head out the window as Roger pulled into a long cul-de-sac. Frankie had allowed them to borrow the car for the weekend.

"Yup, that's it. In all it's glory," Roger said, as they pulled up next to a plain, white, one-story house."

"It's nice," Mimi offered, as Roger pulled the bags from the backseat.

"Please," Roger laughed. "It's nothing."

"Hey, I lived in an apartment growing up. Compared to that, this place is a palace," Mimi declared.

They walked up the front steps, and Roger slowly knocked on the door.

A tall, lanky blonde woman with glasses opened the door almost immediately. Mimi could see a slight resemblance to Roger.

"Hi, honey," she smiled, embracing Roger in a bear hug. "It's good to see you."

"You too, mom," Roger greeted. "This is Mimi."

"Hi," Roger's mom said, awkwardly. "My, you _are_ far along," she laughed, and Mimi blushed.

"Meems, this is Elaine, my mom," Roger said, helping her along.

"Nice to meet you," Mimi smiled, shaking her hand.

"Nice to meet you too, dear," Elaine returned the gesture. "You two want to come inside?"

"Sure," Roger said, picking up their bags.

"Oh, let me," Elaine said, retrieving the bags from Roger. "You want me to stick these in your room?"

"Sure…thanks," Roger said.

"Your father's in the living room. Make sure to say hello to him too," Elaine said, before disappearing into the other room.

Roger smiled at Mimi and took her hand, and they slowly retreated into the living room.

"Hi, Dad," Roger said.

Roger was a carbon copy of his father, minus the pot-belly and the graying hair. "Well. Long time, no see," his father said, rising up to hug him, briefly.

"This is Mimi, dad," Roger said, placing his arm around her.

He looked at her. "Your mother told me you two had been a little busy. You're a bit late to tell us."

"Sorry," Roger mumbled, blushing.

"I'm Raymond," Roger's dad said, holding his hand out to Mimi.

"Mimi," Mimi said, taking his hand.

Raymond looked at her quizzically. "Well…you two have a seat. I'll go get your mother," he said, going into the other room after Elaine.

Roger sat down next to Mimi on the couch. "Sorry. They're kind of weird," he apologized.

Mimi laughed and tousled his hair. "That explains where you get it from."

"Back," Raymond announced, as Roger struggled to fix his hair. He and Elaine sat on the couch opposite from the one Mimi and Roger were seated on.

"Anyone want lemonade?" Elaine asked.

Roger shook his head. "No thanks. We already ate."

"So…," Raymond said, slowly. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, Rog."

"Yep," Roger said, looking at the floor, uneasily.

"So Mimi, are you employed?"

"Well, no…I quit my job about a year ago."

"Oh? What job was that?" Elaine asked.

"It was…at this club."

"Were you a waitress?" Raymond asked.

"I…was a dancer."

Raymond gave her a weird look. "I see. Are you working, Rog?"

"No. The guys and I play often, though, and that pays a lot."

"You should get a stable job," Raymond said.

"I know," Roger mumbled.

"What kind of dancing job was this?" Elaine asked Mimi, confused.

"I…"

"Not one of those stripper clubs?" Raymond laughed.

Mimi looked at Roger, uncomfortably.

Elaine cleared her throat. "Well," she said. "How far along are you?"

"About six months," Mimi answered.

"We're having a boy and a girl," Roger added, eager to change the subject.

Elaine smiled at Raymond. "You hear that, Ray? We're going to be grandparents."

"I know. Roger…is she…are you…," he paused. "Are you positive as well?"

"Yeah," Mimi said, quietly.

Raymond sighed. "You girls mind if I talk to Roger here, man to man?"

Elaine gave him a puzzled look. "Sure…I'll set some linens up in your room, Roger. Mimi, dear, you can go wait in the kitchen if you want. Help yourself to anything."

"Okay," Mimi said, uneasily, walking into the kitchen, and closing the door softly behind her. Raymond was making no effort to keep his voice down, and Mimi could easily hear his and Roger's conversation.

"I expected better from you, Roger."

"What?!"

"Honestly, son, she was a dancer at a _strip club_?"

"No, dad…it _wasn't_ like that. She's past all that now."

"And what are you thinking having kids with another person who's HIV positive? You want your kids to suffer?"

"_No_, Dad," Roger exclaimed, angrily.

"Roger, you can't just bring in some whore you find at a club and spring up out of nowhere saying you're going to marry her and spend your life with her! Girls like that, Rog…do you even know if you're the only man in her life?"

Hot tears stung the corner of Mimi's eyes, and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"Don't you call her that," Roger growled. "You don't know her. She's not like that at all. You can't just fucking judge her like that."

Raymond sighed. "I'm just saying, Roger…"

"Well, _don't_ 'just say.' I'm telling you she's not that kind of person. And that should be enough for you," Roger said, disgusted. "I'm going to go unpack our stuff."

He wandered over to the kitchen and opened the door. "Meems?" The kitchen was empty. "Mimi?" he called, knocking on the door of the bathroom. No one in there. Confused, he stuck his head out the door, and saw Mimi leaning against the side of the car, with her arms folded and her shoulders hunched over.

"Hey," Roger said gently, placing his arm around her shoulders. "What're you doing out here?"

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, Rog," Mimi said, softly.

"What?"

"Your parents hate me, Roger. I heard your dad talking about me in the other room."

Roger sighed. "Meems, my dad's a jackass. That's why he and my mom are divorced. Don't let him get to you. He's just a lot of talk."

"Maybe so…I just feel…unwanted, though," she sniffed.

Roger cupped her chin in his hands. "Hey, stop that. Don't let my dad upset you. He can be a real ass…the guy has a heart though, I've gotta admit. Sometimes." He handed her a tissue from his pocket. Mimi sighed and wiped her eyes.

"You wanna go back in there? We can unpack and crash for the night if you want."

Mimi nodded. "Okay."

"Kay," Roger said softly, and the two of them slowly went back into the house.


	49. Too Close For Comfort

Author's Note: Thanks for the amusing reviews, guys ;-). Some of you need to take the pole out of your asses. Or loosen up your undies a bit, you're gonna give yourself a yeast infection!!!

"Wake up, Meems."

"Mmmph?" Mimi lifted her head up from her pillow, as Roger shook her shoulder gently. "Fuck you I'm sleeping," she grumbled.

"Aw, come on my sister's going to be home in a few. My mom just went to pick her up. She's going to want to meet you."

"Okay," Mimi said sleepily, closing her eyes again.

"_Mimi_," Roger complained, tickling her in the sides.

"_Okay!_ I'm up. Damn," she said, struggling to sit up in the cot that Roger's mother had set up in their room. "This thing gave me a crick in my neck."

"You'll live," he teased, squeezing the back of her neck, lightly. "Let's go, we're gonna miss breakfast."

"We're home," Elaine called as she entered the kitchen, followed by a young girl with brunette hair set in messy braids.

"Hey, kid," Roger greeted her over a glass of orange juice. "C'mere and give your big brother a hug."

The girl raced over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "Hi Roger!" she grinned up at him.

"How was the sleepover? Good?"

"Yeah, it was okay."

"Did you guys sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Sure," Roger laughed. "Rach, this is my fiancé, Mimi. Meems, this is my sister, Rachel."

"Hi," Rachel said shyly, looking over at Mimi.

"Hi," Mimi smiled at her. "Looks like we're going to be sister in-laws."

"Rach is thirteen," Roger told her, squeezing Rachel's hand.

"Really? I have a sister who's fifteen," Mimi said to Rachel.

"Really?"

"Yup. You'll probably get to meet her, eventually."

Elaine cleared her throat. "Rachel, honey, do you want to go unpack your bags?"

"Aw, mom, I just got home," Rachel complained, stealing a slice of toast of Roger's plate. "Besides, Roger's here."

"Yeah mom, Roger's here," Roger grinned.

Elaine sighed. "Alright. Have something to eat and then unpack your stuff."

"Okay," Rachel said, plopping down in the seat across from Roger. "So, are you like…having kids?" she asked Roger, cautiously.

"Uh, well, I'm not the one who's going to be giving birth, but yeah, Mimi's pregnant. You're going to have a nephew and niece."

"Awsome," Rachel grinned. "What're their names?"

"Well, we were thinking of Anna and Corey," Mimi said.

"You should name the boy after Daddy," Rachel cracked.

"Rachel," Elaine said, in a warning tone.

Rachel downed a glass of juice. "Sorry."

"Oh, jeez, sorry, I didn't see you there," Mark apologized as he bumped into a woman with his shopping cart in the A&P. Then, "Jan?!"

"Mark?" Jan's face reflected the same surprise as Mark.

"What're you doing here? I thought you moved in with your parents."

"I did. For a few weeks. It wasn't exactly a party. I decided I'd be better off back here," Jan said.

"Oh," Mark said, scuffling his feet. "Well…how've you been doing?"

"Okay…I guess. I was able to recover my job at the library."

"That's good," Mark said.

"Yeah."

They were both silent for a moment.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around," Mark said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Jan smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Bye," Mark said, as he gathered his bags to leave. As he walked down the street, he recognized Benny from the back, turning the corner.

"Hey, Mo, I got what you asked for," Mark called, entering Maureen's apartment. He placed the groceries on the couch and went over to kiss her gently on the beck. She seemed to stiffen, and pulled back.

Mark stopped. "Are you okay?"

"Benny just called," Maureen said, awkwardly.

"Oh yeah, I saw him down at the store."

"He said he saw you and Jan together."

"Yeah, she's back home. I bumped into her with my cart by accident."

"He said you two were…a little too close for comfort."

"What?!" Mark exclaimed.

"He said you had your hands all over her."

"I put my hand on her shoulder when I said goodbye to her! Jesus Christ, come on, Maureen! You're really going to take that asshole Benny's word over mine?"

"I don't know," Maureen mumbled, folding her arms under her chest. "I just wonder sometimes if you miss her."

"Sure, I miss her _sometimes_, but Mo, you're the one I love now. Jan and I are just friends, now."

Maureen was silent. "Do you promise?"

"Yes. You know I wouldn't lie to you," Mark told her. "It's me."

Maureen sighed. "Okay."

"I'm going to go take a shower. I'll see you in a bit," Mark said, kissing her on the cheek.

Maureen chewed her lip as he left the room. She couldn't really be sure of what happened between him and Jan, could she? After all, this had happened once before.

Review!!!


	50. Reality Check

Maureen had never told Mark that she'd seen him that one time. They'd been dating for over a month, and Roger and April had been dating even longer than that. And then Roger left for the weekend, and Maureen had come home to find Mark and April kissing on the fire escape. She'd never noticed any sense of a liking between the two before, and was caught completely unaware. The next morning, Mark had pretended that everything was fine, and about a week later, April was dead. Maureen had always wondered if it was just a coincidence that her suicide was shortly after she had found her and Mark together. She'd neglected to share any of this with Mark and Roger. But now, as she feared the same thing was happening with Mark and Jan, she knew that sooner or later, she would have to bring it up.

"Cannonball!" Rachel shouted, jumping into the pool with a large splash.

"Rachel, come on," Roger complained, wiping water from away his eyes. They were hanging around the pool in the Davis's backyard, and Roger's parents had stepped out to buy some groceries.

"It's just water, Rog," Mimi grinned, sitting by the edge of the pool.

"Then why don't you come in?" he asked, splashing her lightly.

She frowned. "You know I can't swim."

"So? Come over to the shallow end. I won't let anything happen."

"I'll look like a fucking beach ball in the water."

Roger laughed. "Who're you looking to impress? Come on, the water'll only be up to your waist."

"_Your_ waist, maybe," Mimi grumbled. "I'm not as tall as you."

Roger tugged at her ankle. "C'mon."

Mimi sighed. "Fine. But if you pull any bullshit, I'm out."

"Bullshit? Me?" Roger teased, as Mimi slowly slid into the shallow end of the pool.

"Wow. I feel so much lighter now," Mimi laughed as she slowly walked through the water towards Roger.

"It's not so bad, is it?" Roger said, holding her arms, gently. They watched as Rachel hurled herself off the diving board and into the water.

"Jesus," Mimi said.

"How come you never learned to swim?" Roger asked her.

Mimi shrugged. "I was afraid of the water when I was a kid. I was afraid of drowning. I still am, actually."

Roger smiled and kissed her cheek. "You know I won't let that happen."

Mimi smiled. "I know."

"After the babies are born, we're going to get you swimming."

"Right. In the kiddie pool."

"Practice makes perfect."

"You guys, I'm getting something to eat," Rachel announced, as she climbed out of the water.

"Well then you can't come back in," Roger called after her. "You have to wait a half an hour after eating."

Rachel stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared inside.

"You know, I had my first kiss in this pool," Roger laughed.

Mimi snorted. "Thanks for sharing."

"I was fourteen. The girl never spoke to me again." He turned to Mimi. "When's the first time you kissed someone?"

"Honestly? I don't remember. I think I was pretty drunk," Mimi grinned, sheepishly.

"Bet he wasn't as good as me," Roger teased.

Mimi shook her head. "No one is."

"I think my folks are home," Roger said, hearing a car pull into the driveway.

Mimi waded over to the side of the pool and hoisted herself out of the water with a groan.

"Careful, don't fall backwards," Roger laughed.

Mimi groaned. "Fuck you. Can you give me a hand?"

Roger lifted himself up onto the side of the pool and helped her up.

"Thanks," Mimi said, reaching for a towel. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon, I think," Roger said, wrapping a towel around his waist. "C'mon, let's get some lunch."

"_Speak…BEEP!_"

Maureen sighed and put down the receiver. She couldn't do this over the phone. She needed to talk to Mark in person.

She curled up into a fetal position on the bed and sighed, closing her eyes tightly.

_She was walking along the fire escape. It seemed wider than it usually was. And longer. _

_She frowned, but continued up the stairs, not quite sure what she was intending to find._

_She made it to the roof, where she found the two of them kissing. Mark. And April, that stupid whore. _

_"Maureen?" Mark looked up, surprised. April looked up too, and blinked at her._

_Suddenly, and image of Roger finding April dead in the bathroom flashed before Maureen's eyes, and startled her so that she lost her balance, so she was falling…falling…_

"Maureen…MAUREEN! Wake up," Maureen heard, and felt someone gently shaking her awake.

Gasping, she opened her eyes and found Mark hovering over her.  "Mark?" she croaked.

"You were having a bad dream," he said, gently. "You're okay now." He glanced at the tears streaming down Maureen's face. "Aren't you?"

"I don't know," Maureen whispered, crying, and Mark hugged her tightly against him, confused.

Maureen wanted to say something, but instead continued to weep into his shoulder.


	51. Dysfunction

A/N: Wow I haven't updated this in a while. Enjoy, and review.

"Mark," Maureen whispered, once her tears had dried.

"What is it?" Mark asked softly, gently rubbing her back.

"You know…when Roger was going out with April? And we were first going out?"

"I…yes," Mark said, seeming to be uneasy.

Maureen bit her lip. "Did you ever…cheat on me?"

"Cheat on you? No, I never…" Mark began, but his protest was all too unconvincing.

"You're lying," Maureen whispered, as tears again crept into the corners of her eyes.

"Mo, I'm not, I…"

"I _saw_ you!" she yelled, suddenly. "I saw you with April!"

There was a moment of silence.

"You saw…me and April…"

"Yes. I did. So you can quit lying to me," Maureen snapped, bitterly.

"Why are you just bringing this up now?"

"I don't _know_. I was going to, but then April died, and then we broke up…it just sort of got tossed out the window." She was silent. "Why did you do it?"

"It was just once, Mo. Roger was away, and she was lonely. She asked if she could join me on the roof and then…well, you know."

"And you _never_ told Roger?"

Mark shook his head, guiltily.

"You have to tell him," she said, flatly.

Mark paled. "No, I can't."

"You need to tell him. He deserves to know. You've been keeping it from him for too long."

Mark sighed. "I know you're right. I just…don't know how I could tell him."

"Tell him tomorrow. When they get back from his parent's house. Talk to him alone."

Mark was quiet for a moment.

"Please?" Maureen said, in a choked voice.

Mark gave in. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll tell them tomorrow."

"How was your day?" Collins asked Frankie that night, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

Frankie looked up at him and smiled. "It was okay. I got kind of lonely with you out all day."

"I'm sorry. I don't like leaving you up here alone."

"I know." Frankie looked at the floor, and was silent.

Collins frowned. "Is something bothering you?"

"No…" Frankie started to say. Then, "Yes."

"What's the matter?" Collins asked, sitting beside her and running his fingers through her hair.

"I want to make love to you," Frankie blurted out, making no effort to be discreet.

Collins was taken back. "What?" he sputtered, bemused.

"You heard me. We've been together for almost half a year, and we never have. I want to."

"Frankie, baby, you know we can't do that…"

"Yeah, I know, you're positive. But I don't _care_. You're the only person that's ever truly cared about me, the only person I've ever really loved. And I'm willing to risk it. I'm not afraid of death. I love you, Tom."

Collins was suddenly angry. "Listen, Frankie-this isn't just some win-or-lose thing. My last partner _died_ of HIV. And someday, maybe soon, I will too. You don't know how horrible it is. To watch the person you love suffer, be with them in their last hours. You say you're not afraid of death? Well, I'm _terrified_ by it. And I'm terrified of my disease. Every day I am. And I'm not going to lose you to it. I won't be responsible for your pain. I love you, Frankie, you know I do."

"It just isn't fair though," Frankie murmured, and Collins could hear her voice choking up. "I know that I'll never love someone else like I love you before I die."

"That's what I thought after I lost Angel," Collins said, coming on more gently this time. "When she died, I wanted to die with her. I thought I'd never be truly happy again. But I was wrong-I met you. And I love you, just as much as I did Angel. And I know she'd be happy to know that."

Frankie sighed. "I know you're right. I'm sorry."

Collins kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I know it's hard. It is for me too, believe me."

Frankie nodded, but said nothing.

"It has to be like this," Collins said, softly.

Frankie sighed. "I know," she said. "I know."

"Here goes nothing," Mark muttered as Maureen escorted him up to the Loft. He opened the door with the spare key Roger had given him, and the two of them stepped inside.

"I'll go in the other room with Mimi. You two need to be alone," Maureen said.

Mark sighed. "Alright."

"Hello?" Maureen called out.

Mimi appeared in the kitchen doorway, wearing a loose pair of jeans and a maternity blouse that her sister Isabella had gotten for her.

"Hey, guys!" she greeted, pleased with their presence.

"Hey, Mimi. How was it?"

Mimi shrugged. "What can I say. They weren't nuts for me."

"That's Ray and Lorraine for you," Mark said, quietly.

"Yeah, well. Roger didn't like me at first either when I first met him," Mimi giggled.

_Yes he did,_ Mark thought to himself, but said nothing. "Is Roger home?" he asked, uneasily.

"Yeah, he's in the dining hall-I mean nursery. Jeez, I need to stop doing that. Roger, in here!" Mimi called, cupping her hands over her mouth.

Maureen motioned towards Mimi's swelling belly. "How's life down there?"

"Well, the nausea's kind of passed. I think I've come to embrace my hugeness," she grinned. "Isabella and I went shopping for maternity clothes. I had to buy extra large, since it's twins."

"Well, they'll be here before you know it," Maureen told her.

"Yeah, I know," Mimi said, patting her stomach.

Roger entered the room. "Hey guys," he said, giving the same greeting as Mimi.

"Hi," Mark and Maureen said at the same time. Maureen looked at Mark and nodded.

"Um, Rog, can I talk to you?" Mark asked, quietly.

"Talk? Of course. Shoot," Roger said, opening a can of soda.

"Can we talk alone?" Mark asked, quickly.

Roger frowned. "Alone? Yeah…I guess so."

"We'll go into the other room," Maureen said quickly, taking Mimi, who appeared very confused, by the arm and leading her out of the room."

Roger laughed. "What's up, buddy?"

Mark sighed. "Roger, there's something I was never quite honest with you about." He had considered the whole 'Please don't get mad' thing, but then decided Roger had the right to be mad for what Mark was about to tell him.

Roger raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"You know when you went to Connecticut with the Hungarians? And I stayed behind with April?"

"Yeah…jeez, that was a long time ago. Why?"

Mark hurried along. "April was upset when you left. She was really lonely."

"Yeah…" Roger was beginning to become impatient.

"There was just…one night. We were up on the roof. She was talking about how you were never around anymore. And my relationship with Maureen then was going to hell. And…it just…she kissed me, and then…"

"WHAT?" Roger exclaimed.

"We ended up spending the night together," Mark finished, softly.

"You mean…you _slept_ with her?" Roger said, in disbelief.

Mark was silent.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Roger yelled, suddenly.

"Roger, I'm sorry…"

"No wonder she was so fucking depressed! On top of knowing she was positive, she had to live with the guilt of FUCKING MY BEST FRIEND!!!"

"Roger, please," Mark pleaded, not wanting Maureen and Mimi to hear.

"You come in here and tell me that my girlfriend cheated on me…with _you_…and you tell me to fucking calm down? Let me tell you something, you creep, if I had ever…"

Suddenly, Maureen came into the room, looking nervous, followed by Mimi.

"…known what you two were up two, I would have _killed_ you."

"Roger, let me explain…she was upset.."

"SO THAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO FUCK HER BEHIND MY BACK?" Roger screamed, shoving him against the wall.

Mark stumbled, caught off guard.

"STOP IT!" Mimi screamed, rushing over to him as he grabbed Mark's shoulders. "Let go of him!"

Roger gave Mark a murderous look, ignoring Mimi.

Mimi shoved him away from Mark with what strength she had, then glared at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Ask _him_. He's the one who's fucked my girlfriend.

"_What_?" Mimi said, startled.

"_April._ Him and April." Roger's voice cracked. "The person who I thought loved me as much as I loved her…"

"Rog, she DID love you…"

"Don't talk to me," Roger growled, whirling around to face Mark.

"She came to me for comfort."

"SHUT UP!" Roger screamed, taking a step towards him and nearly causing to Mimi to topple over as she clung to his arm.

"STOP!' she yelled. "Both of you! Just shut up!"

Roger stopped, and glared at Mark with rage.

Mimi shook her head. "I don't know what the fuck went on with you three, but whatever it is, you're not going to act like five year olds and scream at each other in the middle of the fucking living room.

"You have a lot of nerve," Roger snapped at Mark.

"Maybe if you were around for a while, she wouldn't have felt the need to come to me," Mark said, quietly.

Roger shook his head, sadly. "Fuck you, Mark." He turned to Mimi. "I'll be back later." Before anyone could say anything, he was out the door. They all winced as it slammed shut behind him.

Maureen sighed and looked at Mark. "That didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

Roger returned home around seven, relieved to find the Loft rid of all guests. He found Mimi asleep in the bedroom, snoring softly in a fetal position. She had taken to going to bed more early, lately.

Roger showered, got into a pair of old boxers, and slid in bed next to her. Mimi stirred and awoke, looking up at him sleepily. "Hi, there."

"Hi," Roger mumbled.

"Blow off some steam?"

"Some."

"I've never heard you yell at Mark."

"Yeah, well. There's a first time for everything."

"Would you forgive him?" Mimi asked, quietly.

"I don' know." Roger stared at the wall. "It'll take time."

"I know it hurts," Mimi said softly, nuzzling her cheek gently against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

Mimi sighed and lay back down. "You're stubborn as hell."

"Well, excuse me."

Mimi glared at him and rolled over onto her side.

"How have you felt today?" Roger asked quietly, and Mimi knew he was referring to the babies.

"Better," Mimi said, flatly.

"You're mad at me."

"I'm disappointed, is all."

Roger snorted. "Not as much as I am with Mark."

"Well, you have a right to be."

"Don't I know it," Roger said, bitterly.

Mimi closed her eyes. Roger remained sitting up.

"Come to bed," she said, tiredly. "You'll feel better."

Roger said nothing, but gave in.

Satisfied, Mimi closed her eyes again and turned over so that she was facing the other direction.

Roger sighed. Slowly, he moved closer to her body, pressing her against him, putting an arm around her growing abdomen, protectively. Mimi squeezed his hand gently as he began to rub her tight stomach with the palm of his hand, wondering if he'd feel the babies moving. He was disappointed to feel nothing.

"They're sleeping," Mimi said, her voice muffled by her pillow. "And you should be."

Roger gave up trying to brighten her mood, and took away his hand. He closed his eyes tightly, inhaling the smell of Mimi's shampoo and trying to think of anything but Mark and April. Soon enough, he drifted to sleep.


	52. Delirium

The next morning, Mimi awoke with a slight fever.

"I'm fine," she protested, as Roger retrieved the thermometer from her mouth.

"Meems, it reads one oh one. And you're shivering. You need to lay down."

"It's just a cold," she grumbled through chattered teeth, pulling the blankets over her.

Roger sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you want anything?"

"I don't know. You could turn up the heat."

"It's eighty degrees outside, Mimi."

Mimi shrugged.

Roger sighed and got two more quilts from the bathroom closet and wrapped them around Mimi's shoulders. "Better?"

Mimi made a face. "A little. My mouth tastes really sour."

"Do you want a drink? Like tea or something?"

"Sure."

"What do you want?"

"What do we have?"

Roger got up and cluttered around the kitchen to find the teabags. "There's green tea and Earl Grey," he called.

Mimi closed her eyes. "I'll have green tea." She waited for a few moments, listened for the sound of the tea kettle screeching, and saw Roger come in carrying a cup of tea for her."

"Thanks, baby," she smiled, taking the mug from him.

"No problem," he assured her. She had put her hair back in a messy bun, and Roger assumed it was because she was sweating. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "It's probably just a 24-hour thing."

"Are you nauseous?"

"No."

Roger sighed. "Alright. Just stay in bed for the next day or two. But if this gets any worse, we're going to the doctor, alright?"

Mimi nodded.

"I'm sorry about last night," Roger said, pushing a strand of curly hair behind her ear.

"That's okay," Mimi said hoarsely, as she sipped her tea. "Damn, this is hot."

"You want an ice cube or something?"

"Nah, I'll just wait for it to cool down," Mimi said, placing it on the bedside table. She spotted his guitar half out of its case, in the corner. "Play something."

"Huh?" Roger said, trying to follow her gaze.

"On the guitar. You've hardly played at all since I found out I was pregnant."

"That's because we've been so busy getting ready for the babies."

Mimi shrugged. "We have time now." She paused. "Play something."

Roger picked up the guitar and slid the strap over his head. "Anything?"

"Uh huh. Just something that you like."

"Okay." Roger plucked the pick from the strings. "You can't complain about the song though, okay?"

"I promise."

"Alright. Here goes," Roger said, and began playing. He could feel Mimi's eyes on him.

Just a small town girlLiving in a lonely worldShe took the midnight train going anywhere Just a city boyPulling range in south DetroitHe took the midnight train going anywhere A singer in a smoky roomSmell of wine and cheap perfumeFor a smile they can share the nightIt goes on and on and on and on Strangers, waitingUp and down the boulevardTheir shadows searching in the nightStreetlight peopleLiving just to find emotionHiding somewhere in the night Working hard to get my fillEverybody wants a thrillPaying anything to roll the diceJust one more time Some will win, some will loseSome were born to sing the bluesOh the movie never endsIt goes on and on and on and on Strangers, waitingUp and down the boulevardTheir shadows searching in the nightStreetlight peopleLiving just to find emotionHiding somewhere in the night Don't stop believingHold on to that feelingDon't stop believing "I like that song," Mimi said, once he'd finished. "Me too," Roger said, putting the guitar aside. "My daddy used to sing that. Along with the radio." "Your 'daddy'?" Roger repeated, grinning. Mimi giggled, and her face flushed. "I mean, my dad. Before he died. When I was little he used to sing along to that song." "Oh," Roger said. His father was a Beatles lover. "When did he die?" "I was five," Mimi said. "A car crash. He died in the hospital." "I'm sorry," Roger said, softly. Mimi shrugged. "I barely remember him. Just that he liked that song. It's funny, that you chose to play that one." "Yeah, it is. You still feeling shitty?" "Just a little tired. I think I'm gonna go back to sleep." "Do you mind if I run out to the store to get some things? Collins might join me. He's picking up some stuff for Frankie. I'll only be a few minutes." "Okay," Mimi said. "I'll be asleep anyway." "You sure?" Mimi smiled. "Go ahead." "Alright. Twenty minutes at the most, I promise," he reassured her, kissing her hot forehead. "Bye," Mimi said. After Roger left, she tried to go back to sleep, but then suddenly had the urge to go to the bathroom. Weakly, she crawled out of the bed, shivering, and tried to make her way to the bathroom. A sudden wave of dizziness and nausea overcame her, and she sat back down quickly on the floor, her head spinning. She tried to wait for the feeling to surpass, but it didn't. Rolling over onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling uncomfortably. Another spill overcame her, and she closed her eyes, tightly. Within moments, everything began to fade. When she came to, she found Roger and Collins hovering over her, looking startled. "Mimi? Can you hear me?" Roger exclaimed, crouching down by her head. "Did you hit your head?" Mimi groaned. "No…I just got really dizzy all of a sudden." Roger helped her sit up, and carried her back to the bed, placing her down gently. "This is exactly what Frankie has," Collins said to Roger. "She must have gotten it from her. She woke up this morning, and her symptoms were similar. I think it's just a 24-hour virus or something." Mimi groaned. "It better be 24-hours." Roger smiled and squeezed her hand, sympathetically. "Heard you and Mark got in a fight," Collins said. "Did Mark tell you?" Roger asked, rubbing Mimi's shoulders. "No, I mean literally, we _heard_ you. I would've come up, but Frankie was a little upset." "Oh." Roger blushed. "What was wrong?" Collins hesitated. "Girl stuff. What happened with you and Mark?" "Guy stuff." Collins laughed. "I won't ask, then. You two were really going at it, though." Roger shrugged. "Yeah well." Mimi had curled up onto her side, and was resting her head now in his lap, her eyes closed. Collins glanced at her. "Maybe I should go?" he suggested. "Frankie's not as bad off, but she's feeling pretty shitty." "I don't know. I'll probably be in here with Mimi the rest of the day." "Okay." Collins paused. "You want me to tell Mark something for you if I bump into him?" "I have nothing to say to him," Roger said, coldly, then felt Mimi elbowing him. "Tell him Roger will speak to him later," she said, firmly. Collins looked at Roger. Roger sighed. "Sure." "Alright," said Collins. "Feel better, Meems. I'll probably come by with some herbal crap later to make your stomach feel better. Knowing Frankie, she's probably got a lot of that stuff somewhere." "Thanks, Collins," Roger said. "See you later." Collins left, and Roger slowly slid out from under Mimi's head, and helped her get comfortably back under the covers. Then he grabbed his guitar, and played some more songs for her, until she fell asleep. 


	53. Forgiveness

There was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Roger said aloud, even though Mimi had fallen asleep against him. He got up, quietly and went to answer the door. He was surprised to find Mark standing there in the doorway.

"Hi," Mark said, flatly.

Roger stared at him. "Hi…"

Mark produced a Tupperware bowl of chicken soup. "Maureen wanted me to bring this up. For Mimi, I mean." He paused. "It's not a 'forgive me' gift."

"Oh. Thanks," Roger said, taking it and turning to put it in the refrigerator. Mark followed him inside.

"How'd she doing?" Mark asked.

Roger shrugged. "She's asleep. Her fever rose to 102 when I checked it last."

"Are you taking her to a doctor?"

"Collins said Frankie has the same thing. It's just a bug."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"I know you didn't just come over to give me the soup."

Mark blushed.

Roger sighed and sat down on the barstool by the counter. "I'm sorry I exploded at you."

"Well, you had good reason," Mark said, remaining where he was.

Roger looked up. "Mark…do you know if she loved me…towards the end, I mean?"

"She always did," Mark said, softly.

"She was always seeking shelter from somebody," Roger said, snorting a little. "I guess that time that somebody turned out to be you. Does Maureen know?"

Mark nodded. "Yeah. She was the one who convinced me to talk to you about it."

"Oh."

"She knew for a while. She just never brought it up until now."

Roger smirked. "Hell of a time to bring it up. A little late, too."

"I know."

"I just keep getting new outlooks on what our relationship was," Roger sighed. "And I know it's been almost two years since then, but she was the first girl I ever really loved, you know? It's hard, finding out stuff like this."

"Yeah…," Mark uncomfortably began to clean his glasses.

He snorted. "Well, that's that, you know? That was then, this is now."

From the other room, they heard Mimi call Roger's name, sounding like a child who'd just had a nightmare calling for their parent.

"I should go," Mark said, replacing his glasses. "Mimi needs you."

Roger nodded.

"I'll talk to you later?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Bye. Make sure she gets the soup. Tell her it's from Maureen."

"Okay."

Mark left, and Roger returned to the bedroom, where Mimi awaited him.

When Roger put his hand to Mimi's forehead the next morning, she felt much better than she had the night before.

Mimi slowly opened her eyes, and looked up at him. "Hey," she smiled, sleepily.

"Feeling better?" he asked, running his fingers gently through her hair. She had thrown up in the middle of the night, previously.

"Yeah," she said. "A lot better than yesterday."

He grinned. "Is it okay to kiss you, then?"

Mimi grinned back at him. "You missed it?"

"Yup," he sad, and leaned in to kiss her lips, gently.

Mimi pressed her face against his cheek and sighed, contently, wrapping her arms around him.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Roger asked, playfully tugging at strands of her hair.

"What do we have?"

"Well…Maureen made you some delicious chicken soup."

Mimi faked hacking sounds and rolled over onto her side.

Roger laughed. "C'mon," he said, smacking her on the bottom underneath the covers. "Let's go get breakfast."

Mimi groaned into her pillow and threw off the covers, slowly sitting up.

"You know, you're sexy the morning after throwing up," Roger told her.

Mimi smiled and held out her arm to Roger, who pulled her to her feet.

"Let's go, sexy," he said, laughing as Mimi nudged him hard with her foot.


	54. Just an Ordinary Day

A sudden jolt on his hands caused Roger to wake up the next morning.

Startled, he quickly sat up in bed, trying to figure out what had awoken him. Then, he remembered he had fallen asleep with his hands cupping Mimi's pregnant belly. Their kicking had woken him up.

"About time I felt them," he chuckled to himself, as Mimi stirred and woke up.

"Morning sunshine," he grinned, kissing her on the forehead. Her reaction was delayed, as she was still half asleep.

"Someone's slap-happy this morning," she grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands.

"Guess what? I finally felt the babies move," Roger told her.

Mimi smiled. "I knew you would soon."

"Yeah, it woke me up."

She laughed. "Sorry. They've been extra jumpy the past couple of days."

"Well I would be too. They're probably anxious to get out of there," Roger said, patting her stomach lightly with his hand. "We should throw a baby shower soon."

Mimi snorted. "This past couple of months have been one big baby shower already."

Roger smiled at her, sympathetically.

"Whenever I think about it I get so nervous and impatient, because I know it'll only be another three months until they're here, and it's driving me crazy," she said.

Roger squeezed her shoulder, lightly. "Try not to think about it."

"I would, if I didn't have _this_ reminding me every minute of the day!" she said, motioning to her middle.

"You've got a point there," Roger said, hiding a smile.

"And I want you to do something to get your mind off it too. I want you to start playing with the guys again. I know you've missed it."

"Meems, I will, eventually. You need me more than the guys do right now."

Mimi frowned. "I know. Music's your passion, though. It's what you do. And I've been preventing you from doing that the past few months."

Roger sighed. "It's no problem, Mimi. As soon as the babies are born, I'll start up again. I promise."

Mimi gave in. "Okay. But you should still write music on your own. You used to do that all the time."

Roger shrugged. "I haven't felt inspired lately."

Mimi shrugged back at him, and slid her feet into her slippers. "My feet are all swelled up," she groaned, as she started to make her way towards the bathroom.

"Hey, at least you're not throwing up anymore," Roger teased.

She looked over her shoulder at him and grinned. "Ass," she said, as she hobbled on her sore feet over to the bathroom.

Roger laughed and went into the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

"I can't believe you brought me out here this early," Mark grumbled to Maureen, around the same time that morning. They were sitting in the middle of Washington Square Park. With the exception of two homeless people sleeping over on the benches, they were the only ones there.

"It's nice here in the mornings," Maureen insisted. "It's quiet. It's peaceful. I like it."

Mark chuckled and nudged her shoulder with his.

Maureen smiled at him, wickedly. "Cut it out," she whined, rubbing her shoulder.

Mark laughed and bent down to retie his shoelaces.

"You know, when we first broke up, I would come and sit out here all the time," Maureen said.

Mark finished fiddling with his shoes, and sat back upright. "You started dating Joanne so soon after, though," Mark said.

"I know." Maureen was quiet for a moment. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure if I ever really was a lesbian…I mean yeah, I love Joanne. I just needed someone to take care of me, and vice versa when I broke up with you. I kind of regretted it as soon as I did it."

"So you were desperate," Mark said.

Maureen blushed. "Yeah. I was, a little. I missed you."

"I _was_ a little surprised when you first told me you were going out with another woman," Mark admitted.

Maureen gave him a sheepish grin. "I remember your mom wasn't too thrilled about it either."

Mark rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well you know her. Mrs. Ultra-religious. She believes that same-sex relationships are wrong."

Maureen shrugged, "There's always a Misses Cohen out there."

Mark laughed. "Yeah, right."

They watched as two newcomers released their dogs into the dog-run, and the two dogs began to chase each other wildly around the length of the fence. One of them sniffed the other's rear end.

Mark made a face. "Nice."

"They're dogs," Maureen reminded him, grinning. "Besides, I'll bet if I did that to you, you'd think it was sexy."

Mark pointed a finger at her. "You do _not_ do that to me," he said, in a serious tone. "If you do, we're through."

Maureen giggled and snuggled inside the crook of his elbow. "I love you," she murmured, softly.

Mark smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. "Love you too."

"What the hell is that smell?" Collins exclaimed when he first stepped inside the Loft.

"Collins? Is that you?" Mimi called, sticking her head out of the bathroom.

"In the flesh."

"Thanks for getting the bagels, you're a lifesaver. Could you set them down for now? I've kind of got my hands full."

Collins placed the plastic bag with the bagels in it on the floor. "What're you doing?" he asked, walking towards the bathroom. He found Roger leaning over the bathtub with a towel wrapped around his shoulders, and Mimi was kneeling beside him, squirting a substance into his hair.

"What is this? Some sort of exotic karma sutra?" Collins asked, watching them.

"I'm bleaching his _hair_," Mimi frowned at him, as she let the bleach sink into the roots of his scalp.

Collins made a face. "That doesn't look fun."

"You think it's fun for me?" Roger said from the tub, not turning his head so the bleach wouldn't roll down his face. "It smells like shit, I know."

"_You_ smell like shit," Mimi teased, as she readjusted the towel around his neck.

"Bitch."

Mimi laughed and slapped him lightly on the side of his neck. "Shut up!"

Collins raised his eyebrows. "You guys hungry?"

"I'm starving," Roger said. "But if I lift my head, this dye will run into my eyes and burn out my pupils, and I will be blind."

Collins snorted. "You've planned this out, haven't you?"

"That's what Mimi told me," he shrugged.

"I had to get you to stop moving around," Mimi said, tugging at his short hair.

"I can't help it-this hurts my neck."

"Believe me baby, this ain't no picnic for me either," Mimi grinned, squeezing the back of his neck.

"You should convince Mark to let you bleach his hair too," Roger laughed.

"I don't think Mark would go for that," Collins laughed. "Maureen probably would, however."

"I'll do it when he's sleeping," Mimi winked, then pulled too hard at Roger's hair, by accident.

"Ow!"

"Sorry," she said, taking the towel and dabbing at the sides of his forehead with it. "You're good to go now. Just try not to move your head around too much."

"Thank God," Roger said, standing to his feet.

Collins shook his head. "Breakfast anyone?" he asked, holding out the bagels.

A/N: Reviews are my anti-drug :-D


	55. Sting

MAY 1ST

"What is it you want to show me?" Mark asked as he stepped into Maureen's apartment.

Maureen grinned at him, as she took his hand. "You'll see," she said, leading him into their bedroom. "Close your eyes," she instructed him.

Mark eyed her suspiciously, then did as he was told. He could hear Maureen fumbling around with something.

"Okay…open."

Mark opened his eyes to see…himself. Maureen was holding out a canvas with his face painted on it.

"It's not the best I've ever done," Maureen said, embarrassed. "I've been working on it for a while."

"Maureen, that's great," Mark exclaimed, leaning forward to get a better look. "It really does look like me."

"You think?" Maureen glanced at the painting.

"Why didn't you tell me you were working on this?"

Maureen shrugged. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

Mark stood up and kissed her on the cheek. "It was a nice surprise," he smiled.

She giggled. "Thanks. I was afraid you wouldn't like it."

"Of course I do," Mark said. He grabbed her hand in his. "I'm taking you out to dinner tonight."

"God, Mark, you don't have to do that, it's just a painting," Maureen giggled.

"No, I want to," Mark insisted. "My treat."

Maureen sighed. "Well, that I can't resist." She grinned at him.

"Get your coat," Mark said, as she laid the canvas carefully against the wall. "I'll make reservations."

Mimi was downstairs in the lobby, preparing to go out to the drugstore to restock on some things that she and Roger needed. Roger had protested on her going out alone, but she made it clear that she wanted to go out alone to clear her head.

As she came down the stairs, she saw a familiar figure standing by the front desk.

Mimi tried to make herself discreet and walk quickly by, but it was too late. He'd seen her.

"Why, if it isn't the fabulous Mimi Marquez!"

"Hi, Benny," Mimi said, glaring at him.

"I've been out of town for months now and that's all you have to say to me?" Benny laughed. He looked like he had gained more weight since Mimi had last seen him, and he hadn't shaved for at least a week.

"What are you doing here?" Mimi asked, standing on the opposite side of the desk to hide the fact that she was pregnant.

"Me? Well…it's over. Alison and I, I mean. Good riddance. She turned out to be a real bitch," he laughed, and scratched at the back of his neck. "How've you been? How's the old depression case doing?"

"_Roger_ is fine, and he's not a depression case," Mimi snapped at him.

"Jeez, calm down. That was the problem when we were going out, Mimi. You were always such a bitch. What are you, on your period or something?"

Mimi almost laughed. "No. I'm most definitely _not_ on my period," she said, flatly.

Benny eyed her carefully. "You gain weight or something?"

Mimi blushed as he frowned at her.

"You look a little…Jesus," he exclaimed, as he walked to the other side of the counter, seeing Mimi's stomach. "What the fuck…you're _pregnant_?"

"No, I swallowed a watermelon. _Yes_, I'm pregnant."

"Why were you trying to hide it from me?" Benny demanded.

"Because I knew you'd make a big deal. Which you are." She said, looking the other way.

"Are you…sure it's Roger's?"

Mimi spun around. "Fuck you!" she snapped, nearly shouting.

"Calm the fuck down, Mimi! I was only asking."

"How dare you ask me that? _Yes_, it's Roger's."

"Well, as we know from when you and Roger were first going out, you _did_ have some slutty tendencies," Benny laughed.

Mimi shook her head at him. "Asshole," she hissed. "You know what your problem is, Benny? Why you can't have a girl for more than a month before having her leave you? It's because you're an ignorant prick. You're a creep, and you always have been. Roger says you used to be a nice guy, but I can't believe it."

Benny's face grew red with anger. "Bitch. I'm not going to have you talk down to me. What are you? You're a whore. You messed around with me while you and Roger were dating. Don't try to deny it! And what were you doing besides that? Dancing half naked, if not completely, in front of a bunch of strange guys you don't know? That's how I first met you, isn't it? Isn't that how _everyone_ meets you," Benny sneered at her.

Mimi clenched her fists and shook her head, "Leave me alone," she growled. She tried to walk past him, but Benny stepped in front of her.

"Don't try to deny it," he said, coldly. "You know it's true. You did like me at one point. I fucking _loved_ you at one point, Mimi!"

Mimi could see how frustrated he was getting.

"I could've had you. But it's so hard for you to keep track of all the guys you meet, isn't it?" He raised his voice, almost shouting. "I'm surprised you've stayed with Roger this long. Who are you fucking behind his back?"

"Fuck you!" Mimi screamed at him, and was shocked to see Benny's right hand all of a sudden shoot up and backhand her across the face.

Mimi stumbled back a few steps, startled, and then caught herself. She brought her hand up to her stinging cheek. She slowly looked back up at him, shocked.

Benny stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, tightly, causing her to whimper with pain. "You know you're a slut, Mimi. I'll bet you anything that that baby comes out and Roger will _know_ it's not his. What did you do, tell him it was something that was planned?"

Hot tears stung the corner of Mimi's eyes, from both hurt from his words, and the pain of his nails digging into her wrist. "You're hurting me," she whispered.

"Admit it, Mimi. We had something great, once. You're just too fucking stubborn to see how good you had it." His grip on her wrist tightened.

"Benny, let go of me," she hissed through the pain in her arm. "I swear to God, I'll scream so fucking loud…"

"You'll regret it," Benny warned her. "Just admit it. Is it really that hard to?"

"I have nothing to say to you," Mimi said, through clenched teeth.

Benny shook his head, infuriated. "Stubborn bitch," he growled, shoving her hard back against the desk, causing her to cry out in both pain and alarm, before slowing sinking to her knees on the floor. Then, he turned and rushed out of the building, just as Mark and Maureen were coming down the stairs.

"Was that Benny?" Mark asked, puzzled as they reached the bottom step. "I think it was…"

Maureen's face turned pale. "Mimi…" she said softly, seeing her huddled next to the desk, cradling her wrist and shaking. As Mark and Maureen rushed over to her, it became apparent that she was crying.

"Mimi? My God, what the hell happened?" Mark exclaimed, placing a hand on both her shoulders.

Mimi shuddered and shook her head, as he helped to her feet.

"Sweetie, tell us," Maureen pleaded with her.

Mimi took in a sharp breath. "Benny," she whispered, weakly as she tried to hold back tears.

"Benny? We just saw him. What did he say to you?" He then saw that she was wincing, and looked down at her arm that she was holding, and saw that her wrist was bright red, and had deep scratch marks around it. "What the hell did he do!?" Mark exclaimed.

Mimi turned to Maureen, shaking. "He saw that I was pregnant…and he asked if it was mine. And I got mad, and it turned into this argument…and I said something…he hit me."

Maureen gasped, as Mark, next to her, turned red with anger.

"He tried to get me to admit I was a slut…and that I had loved him," she said, in a choked voice.

"That bastard," Maureen hissed. 'You didn't, did you?"

Mimi shook her head, and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. "No. And so he threw me against the desk."

"No…," Maureen whispered. "Are you okay, do you need to go to the hospital…"

"No, Mo. I fell against it backwards, not forwards," Mimi said, knowing that Maureen was frightened for the babies.

"Thank God," Maureen breathed. "Are you alright…besides that?"

Mimi nodded, shakily. "I think so. I'm just a little sore."

Mark swore. "Son of a bitch. Fucking coward. I swear, if he hadn't of run out of here before I knew what happened…"

"Mark, please," Maureen said, quietly. "Let's just get her upstairs."

Mimi pulled her hand away. "Mo, I'm fine…I'm just shaken up," she said, weakly.

Maureen shook her head. "Come on, Meems. You need to lay down. Besides, if he's still around out there, I don't think you should be going out alone." She turned to Mark. "Sorry, babe, looks like you'll have to cancel those reservations."

Mimi groaned. "I'm sorry," she said, sniffling.

"Sweetie, don't worry about it. It's that bastard, Benny. Come on, you need to lie down or something…"

"Back so soon?" Roger said, when he heard the front door open and close. He went to the door to greet Mimi, and found her with Mark and Maureen. It looked like she'd been crying.

"My God…what happened?" Roger exclaimed, gently pulling her towards him, concerned. "What's the matter?"

Quickly, Mark told him what had happened.

Roger's jaw dropped and he glanced down at Mimi, putting a hand gently to her face. "He _hit_ you?"

Mimi turned away from him, embarrassed, and wiped at the fresh tears that had come into her eyes.

"I'll kill him," Roger swore. "That bastard better not think of coming back here…I swear to _GOD_."

"Just leave it alone, Roger," Mimi sniffed, in a tired voice.

"Leave it alone? Mimi, he fucking hit you and threw you into the desk, he's crazy!"

Mimi sighed, and Maureen knew that she was thinking of what Benny had said to her.

"Don't think about what Benny said, Mimi," Maureen told her. "He's a pretentious asshole. A self-centered prick, is all."

"Who happens to be a fucking psycho," Roger spat, putting his arm around Mimi's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Meems."

"I hate him so much," Mimi said tearfully, through gritted teeth.

Mark came forward with an icepack. "Thanks," Mimi said, holding it gingerly against her cheek.

"I'll kick his ass," Roger said again, shaking his head.

"Well, at least we know one thing," Mark sighed. "I think he'll think twice to come back here, knowing all of us are looking to kill him."

A/N: Sorry, that ending sucks. What did you think? Review, brother.


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